F for Fish

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Courtesy: jonah_and_the_fish_by_jamesnidea

The City of Samaria

8th Century BC

King’s Jeroboam II’s Castle

Israel

Hi guys. My name is Jonah and I am an asshole. Well, technically I am a prophet (hahahahhaha) but, really, I am an asshole. And a proud one too. To be honest, so is almost everybody I have met, but the difference between me and them is that I can proclaim my assholishness from rooftops and they can’t. I’d rather be an asshole than a hypocrite.

So, I am here in the King’s castle and boy, this dude’s a brute! There is something about these rich kids that I don’t get. It’s like they pop out of their mothers’ birth canals with “asshole” attached to them. But hey, takes one to know one, right?

Anyway, God has sent me here to tell Jeroboam II that he is going to win this war and… blah blah blah. I am just going to paint you a picture using a bit of dialogue here because…well, reasons.

So the king is seated on his golden throne. Nothing spells “asshole” like a king man-spreading on a chair made of gold with hot girls beside him and a tray of grapes in front of him. I tried sitting on a pile of gold once and boy, that shit is cold.

Inside, I’m praying, asking God, “Hey God, why would you send me to deliver a message of hope to this guy? Shouldn’t you just split him in half with one of your lightning bolts and be done with it?”

And God’s like, “Just do what I sent you there to do, man.”

Alright, alright.

Don’t forget, it took me like a really long time to get an audience with this King. You won’t believe the number of asses I have had to kiss to get me here. They are so many, I can’t get the smell of shit off my face but, oh well… God’s work’s got to be done, right?

Finally, I am announced like after hours of waiting and listening to the Court’s politics. The announcer goes like;

Announcer: Your Highness, I present to you the Prophet Jonah son of Ammitai from Gath-hepher…

King: Who?

Announcer: Prophet Jonah son of Ammitai from Gath-hepher…

King: So who is from that shitty town? The son or the asshole dad?

God, do I really have to do this?

Announcer: (Clears throat) Um, well,…

The announcer elbows me in the ribs and mumbles through clenched teeth.

Announcer: Dude, who’s from that shitty town? You or your asshole dad?

Me: Both of us, I guess? What kind of stupid question is that?

Announcer: Both of them.

King: What does he want?

So I open my big mouth to deliver God’s message to the king but the announcer elbows me again in the ribs.

Announcer: Bow dude. This is the king you’re addressing.

So I bow and say what I am here to say.

Me: Oh King Jeroboam, son of the mighty Jehoash, ruler of the quickly expanding Kingdom of Israel, Second of his name…

You won’t believe the amount of ass I have to kiss before getting to the point. And then I have to bow as I do it, and say my piece in a sing-song fashion because, you really don’t want to bore the king. Or come off like you are better than him and all. Unless of course you want your head on a spike; which he will do with a smile, right before thanking some golden piece of shit calf for the entertainment.

I really don’t get why God’s putting up with this shit. But what do I know; I am just a low level prophet son of an “asshole” dad from a “shitty” town.

Me: (After I’m done kissing his kingly ass) The Lord God of Israel has sent me with a message…

King: Oh, that magical dude in the sky? What does he want now?

The king asks, outstretching his legs even further and squeezing a grape against the roof of his mouth.

Me: Well, you know that battle you are preparing for? To recover parts of Israel between Lebo-Hamath and the Dead Sea?

King: Uh huh?

Me: Well, God says you are going to win. (I say that part with a bit of bile and almost add, ‘I really hope you don’t’.)

King: Of course I’m going to win. (The king says puffing out his chest.) I mean, have you met me? (He laughs and the court laughs with him – even though most of them have no idea why they’re laughing.) Anyway, go tell that god of yours the Mighty King of Israel says thanks for nothing.

Oh, good Lord, do you have to embarrass both of us like this?

And then you will never guess what happens after this. So, Jeroboam II wins the war because, the guy is a really good soldier. Nobody can kick ass better that dude, and also, God said he would win, and what God wants, God gets. Well, except getting the Israelites to worship him. So every now and then he sends armies and plagues and shit to fuck with them and remind them of his power and sometimes they listen but most times, they don’t really give a shit. One of the empires He has sent to decimate Israel is called Assyria. Their capital city is called Nineveh. Remember that name. it will come up later.

Anywho, guess who God sends after I’ve embarrassed myself like this. Some guys called Hosea and Joel. Oh, and Amos. I think Hosea is really sad. Well, most people who do this thing called God’s work are sad because it’s a really thankless job. But Hosea, in my very humble opinion, is sadder than most.

So he marries this bitch Gomer, right? Nobody can ride a man better than Gomer in the entire two Kingdoms of Judah and Israel. Everybody knows this but Hosea, the poor fucker who marries her. I think it would have been cool if Gomer hadn’t kept screwing around even after she was married, but a whore’s got to whore, right?

Then God, because He comes with a special package of humor, shows Hosea just what a bitch he married, only after they are married and have three kids! Not before. After. Then God tells Him, “Dude, I know it hurts to be cheated on like this by someone you love, but you really have to calm down man. Hahaha, ati divorce her! I mean, look at me. I love the Israelites, but they keep cheating on me with other gods. And those other gods ain’t shit either. They cheat on me with pieces of wood and golden statues. I mean, what the fuck! But do you see me divorcing myself from them? No! Sure, every now and then I get pissed off and smack em dead, but I have never abandoned them. Not really. So, here is what we’re going to do. Just you and me. We are going to go over to Gomer because even she knows she fucked up. She has been hooking up with these rich assholes, now she owes them and she is in trouble. So we are going to pay off all her debts, bring her back home and stay married to her. Just like I have been doing with Israel. Cool? Cool.”

I mean, hahaha, this whole being a prophet thing, it sucks balls!

Anyway, Hosea and Joel and Amos tell Jeroboam II the very thing that I wanted God to tell me to tell the king. “Hey, asshole! Would you stop being such a blatant fuck-up? Demolish all these false gods you’ve been praying to, be a little nicer to people and God, the true God of Israel, will bless you. But if you keep this shit up, man, you are going down!”

8th Century BC

Where (you think) my Story Begins

So, I know some, if not all of you, have heard of me at some point. I hear I am a bit of a cautionary tale in the Sunday School corridors among other corridors. Well, for those of you who have heard of me, I guess this is where you think my story begins.

Remember that city I meantioned earlier? Nineveh? Well, God calls me to go to Nineveh, which is the Capital this horrible place called Assyria and I’m like, “Hell no God. Fuck that!”

Anyway, so I am minding my own business, shearing sheep, trying to not be a prophet because it sucks, enjoying afternoon naps and generally being Jonah,  when God gives me a holler. He’s like;

God: Yoh Jonah

Me: Ah – ah. Not you again.

God: What, you are still upset about last time?

Me: What, you’re not?

God: Hey, we’re talking about you here, dude. Not me.

Me: I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t upset. You are a nice guy after all. (That is NOT a compliment.) What do you want?

God: Well, I need you to do something for me.

Me: Yeah. Let me guess. You have come up with a new way to embarrass us both.

God: Well, you could choose to see it that way. Coz you are small and shitty, but you and I both know, after all your rumbling and complaining, you’ll do what I want you to do.

Me: Yeah? And what is that?

God: So, you have heard of Nineveh, right?

Me: Uh huh…

God: Well, I need you to go there and…

Yep. God wants to send me into the worst place in the world and throw shade on it. “Oh, you motherfuckers are going down. You have been so evil and God is fed up and he’s pulling the plug on your collective asses.”

Of course I am supposed to put it all nicely like, “God has noticed what bad boys and girls you have been and is about to pinch your noses,” but we all know what that means. Fire and brimstones and shit. And I’m supposed to deliver the bad news to them. I can do that just fine, but I am just not so sure that God will see this mission through.

Also, why can’t He just send His fire and brimstones down on them? Why does He need to warn them? Just fuck them up already. You’re God. You don’t need me.

So I get on a boat and off I go to some place called Tarshish.

In The Sea

En-route to Tarshish

8th Century BC

You know the best thing to do when you are running away from God? Like, literally you are like, “Um, God, I’m done with your shit.” Just get on a boat that heads in the opposite direction from the one God has sent you, enter the ‘cargo hold’ and take a nap. Really awesome way to pass the time. At least you’re spared the sea sickness.

So I am down there, taking my blissful nap. I don’t know exactly what my dreams entail, but I hope I am not some prophet in them. As I take my nap, hopefully dreaming of boobs and other things prophets shouldn’t dream about, because being a prophet basically means being God’s bitch, which is like, no fun at all, the boat begins to rock.

You know how normal people gently wake you up from a nap? A girl you like might kiss you on the lips or forehead, someone might gently shake your shoulder, or a sane person will just play you a nice song, soft and mellow and then slowly increase the volume, but not God… Ah-ah. That is simply not how God rolls. He sends a storm your way.

I’m talking about lightning bolts and thunders and huge waves crashing against your boat; haha, nothing says “Wake the fuck up” like a God-sent storm. You don’t want to mess with those things. Anyway, I wake up.

The sailors are pagans. These are people who are not supposed to give a shit about God. They are simply not wired that way. They are like the Assyrians. They were born and raised in a You-Are-Now-Entering-A-God-Free-Zone kind of environment where they worship cows and statues and shit. Like, if you put a giant dildo in front of them, and cried your heart out swearing up and down that it is the god of erections, they would all stop what they were doing and sacrifice a child to it. You don’t mess with the power of boners.

Anywho, so I go up to the bow of the boat and what’s up there is the literal meaning of a shit-storm.  Well, not literal, but you get the point. There are these giant waves smashing against the boat, sending it right and left, there are these lightning bolts striking everywhere and don’t get me started on the rain and the wind.

Guys are holding onto stuff, lest they get thrown overboard and some asshole sailor goes like, “This storm has been sent by the God of Israel! Someone among us has been fucking with Him!”

And I am like, “What the fuck do you know about the God of Israel?”

The other sailors agree with him. They are dead certain that there is someone on the boat who shouldn’t be on it and so they draw lots to decide who that bad boy is. They are like;

Inky Pinky Ponky

Father Had a Donkey

Donkey Died Father Cried

Inky Pinky Ponky

Finger lands on me. I am the errant dude who shouldn’t be taking this trip to Tarshish. Of course, me being me, goes like, “Yoh, what the fuck dude! Are you on mushrooms or something? I’m a man of God. Why the fuck would a man of God be running away from God?”

So they count again. Inky pinky boo fucking hoo. Finger lands on me and they grin like, “Hahaha, it’s you motherfucker! You are the dude who’s been showing God the finger.” And they pull my nose like, “Shame on you!”

And I’m looking at the Heavens, appreciating God’s sense of humor here because these guys aren’t supposed to appreciate God so much. I am.

So the sailors are really on my case here.

Sailor: You need to explain yourself man.

Me: Explain what?

Sailor: What did you do to your God and whose ass do we have to kiss to get this bloody storm to stop?

Me: I don’t know!

Sailor: Oh, come on bro! You have to work with us here. You’ve fucked up, we are all in trouble for it, so what did you do and how do we reverse it?

Me: OK! OK! You got me! I fucked up, OK? I’m Hebrew and I worship the one true God of Israel. He made the sea and the dry land…

Sailor: And you’re dumb enough to fuck with him and get on a boat? He created the sea, dude! What were you thinking? What do we do now?

So I am standing there, caught with my pants around my ankles and I am thinking how to get out of this mission of God to Nineveh. I mean, the sailor is right. You don’t run from the creator of everything; an all seeing God who is probably up there thinking, “Sasa haka, what does he think he is doing?”

Best I can come up with?

Me: Alright guys, you have to kill me.

Sailor: Um, what?

Me: Yeah! You have to kill me or you are all dead!

Sailor: No we’re not doing that!

So the captain starts issuing orders. Like, “You, adjust the sails!” “You and you, work the oars like you lives depend on it!” “You, grab a bucket and get this water out!” They all fall out, obeying orders like good little soldiers, so determined to not kill a man they don’t even know. But the harder they try, the stronger the storm becomes.

Me: Come on! How hard can it be? Just grab my arms and my feet and throw me overboard! You’re sailors, not prophets!

In the meantime, the sea is getting angrier and angrier, giant waves begin to turn into mountains which will sure as hell crash this little boat and everybody on it, so I turn to the sailors…

Me: It’s now or never guys.

And they all look like they are about to shit. I have never seen a bunch of men so damn terrified, like these sailors. When did they start making them this soft? And then you will never guess what they do; they look up to Heaven and start to pray;

Sailors: God, we are so sorry about what we are about to do… please please please forgive us…

And I am there rolling my eyes because this is pretty unbelievable. They have more faith in God, these pagans, than I do. Me. A prophet. Fuck me.

Well, they are still dumb, or they would have just asked me to jump into the ocean myself. Like, why do I need their help? Why do they have to murder me when I could just commit suicide? Well, in case you haven’t noticed, I am a bit of a pussy.

But I look up through the dark clouds above the boat, through the storm and the lurking death and offer a last smile as I feel the weeping sailors’ hands on my body. I feel my feet leaving the ground and their tears flowing down their cheeks. “God, we are so sorry about this. Please don’t let your servant’s blood be on our hands.”

I have a feeling they will offer a burnt sacrifice to God after this but I won’t be around to see it. It’s not like I will be missing out on much. I am not exactly looking forward to seeing pagans kissing my God’s ass and my God blessing them for it.

As my body flies into the air and crashes into the water, I close my eyes knowing that it is all over. No more prophet, no more fucking Nineveh, and sure as fuck, no more God’s voice in my life. Like, I’m just done.

So there I am in the now already calming sea, sinking and sinking, trying to relish the peace that my death will bring, when this large fish shows up out of nowhere and its mouth just pops open. And it is uglier than sin.

Nothing interrupts your peace of mind faster than the sight of a large fish, swimming towards you, with its big mouth open; but who am I to choose the way I go out? Out is out. Whether by drowning or by being eaten by fish, either way, I am out.

Inside the Fish’s Tummy

I have let go, let myself be immersed by the darkness in the fish’s insides and suddenly, it is not so dark anymore and I can breathe.

Inside the fish’s stomach, I can see, I can hear, I can breathe… I’m alive. Inside the fish’s stomach, I see what those sailors saw in God. His magnificence. Most times He is a bit of a party pooper, but sometimes, He really goes out of His way to show you just how heavy His punches can be.

God: I bet you’re thinking I am pretty cool right now, right?

Me: Go ahead. Blow your trumpet, like entire kingdoms aren’t doing that for you already.

God: Come on. You have to admit; I’m pretty awesome.

So in that fish’s stomach, I feel stupid for the first time in a long time. I have messed up time and again, rebelled time and again, and still here is God, saving my life and trying to make me smile.

Me: Yeah. Yeah you are pretty cool.

God: (I imagine He has placed a hand behind His Godly ear and moved closer to me) I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you above the chaos of your humility.

Me: I said you are pretty cool.

God: And?

Me: And I’ve been a dumbass.

God: And?

Me: And I have been embarrassing myself all through.

God: And?

Me: Thanks.

God: For what?

Me: For being so cool with me and for not abandoning me even when I was such an asshole. I will do whatever you ask from here on out.

God: You promise?

Me: I promise.

God: Pinky swear?

And I lift my pinky up to swear but I think He just waves it away like;

God: Ah, chill out dude. Sitting there looking all pathetic and shit. Sooooo, off to Nineveh then?

Me: Definitely!

God: And yoh,

Me: Yeah?

God: Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you didn’t exactly apologize.

The City of Nineveh

Empire of Assyria

Three Days Later

You know what’s worse than being a prophet? Being a prophet who has spent three days inside a fish. That is just gross. But hey, at least I didn’t marry a cheat, so… Oops, sorry Hosea. We’re still mates, right?

But you know what you really don’t want to do? What shouldn’t be anywhere near your bucket list? Spending time inside a fish. Big no-no. There is no food, it is humid, there is no coffee, the place is so bad, it made me find God. I was like, “Alright God, you have made your point. You are awesome and I am a screw-up.”

Anywho, here I am, in fucking Nineveh and I am in no mood to put with any shit whatsoever from anybody. Don’t get me wrong, it is a very beautiful city to look at. It is after all, the biggest city in the world.

First thing you see when you walk in through the gates are the statues and dozens of people stopping by these statues to take a knee or drop a coin. In the back alleys, there are all these girls, barely dressed, waiting on men, while their colleagues are in various rooms, screaming their throats sore.

I have nothing against prostitution. Men have needs and women have to eat too, so… And it is not like there are no prostitutes in Samaria and in Jerusalem too. It’s just that here in Nineveh, they are quite young.

You know what, this city and every pagan ass in here sickens me to my stomach. God told me to come here and tell them they are going down. Maybe He expects me to unleash a hell of a fire and brimstone sermon, but I am just not in the fucking mood.

Like, there is sin, and there is what goes on in this city. Honestly, I just can’t wait to sit down, pop some corn, cross my legs and watch this bitch go up in flames. So, here is what I do; I walk in there and say, “Listen up you maggots! In forty days, Nineveh shall be overturned.” That is it. I’m done. God wanted me to prophesy, I have prophesied. I promised Him I would do whatever He asked and I have done it. Now it is time for me to get going.

I don’t really even say that “Listen up you maggots” bit; I am even too tired and too fish fucked through every pore of my body to even say that.

But even before I am out, these fuckers start to cry. To God! They are like, “We are so sorry, please don’t destroy us, oh you are a merciful God…” Ah crap. They are just pathetic. Even the King starts to apologize to God and he sheds his kingly garments and puts on these ugly crying clothes.

Like, they are so apologetic, that even their cows pick up on the vibes. Their fucking cows. This shit is too ridiculous to make up. Cows are like, “Moooooo” in such a sad wail, even a lunatic can tell they are just sorry. In my opinion, these animals are just being dumb. If I were them, I wouldn’t apologize on behalf of humans who will eat me later anyway. But hey, I guess a cow has to cow, right?

The king goes ahead to ask everybody in Nineveh to repent and to fast and to do everything in their power to ensure God doesn’t bring the city down. “No lip in Nineveh shall escape kissing God’s ass. Kiss! And kiss goddamn it! I’m asking nicely. And get that cow over to moo apologetically too! Yes, that one!”

Whole city goes up in prayer. Everybody is in their worst crying clothes, we call them sack-clothes around these parts and they are uglier that a hippo’s mouth, and people even go to the extent of smearing ashes on their faces.

I don’t give a shit. They could cry rivers, sweet enough to bring some life into the Dead Sea and I still wouldn’t feel a thing for them. These guys have been after Israel for centuries. They are our worst enemy and they don’t even believe in God. They are pagans. Heathens. They worship little things that they have made with their own hands and now because they have shed a few tears because I have said a few words, they think God will forgive them? Fuck that.

So I wait for God’s fire to come down. Day one. I wait. Day two. I wait. Day three. I wait. It’s a long wait, if I am being completely honest, but it will be worth it. I always wanted to witness God’s chaos upon masses. You know, fiery rocks dropping from heaven onto pagan babies’ heads and shit. Ah, so cool!

And I wait…

And wait…

Aaaaaaand wait…

I hug my cheeks waiting…

My pubes grow really big as I still wait…. But that’s cool. It’s not like prophets get so much tail anyway…

And wait…

Aaaaaaaannnnndddd….

Me: Hey God, you up there?

God: Yep.

Me: Are you still punishing these fuckers or what?

God: Why do you have to curse so much?

Me: You created me. You tell me.

God: No.

Me: No, what?

God: No I will not be indulging your fetish today?

Me: Wha… Dude! What do you mean ‘fetish’?

God: You are craving a genocide so bad, I bet the very thought of it gives you a bon… you know what? I will NOT descend to your level of disgusting imagery Jonah!

Me: Are you going to burn them, or not?

God: Not.

Me: Why the hell not?

God: Because they said they are sorry. I mean… (His voice softens) Look at them. Being all pathetic crybabies and all… so cute!

Me: Um, what!

God: They are so sweet. How can I destroy them?

Me: Because they are fucking Ninevites! Pagans! Hypocr… ah man! You are going to fall for this show?

God: They are sorry Jonah. What do you want from me?

Me: FIRE! And wrath! It’s what you promised!

God: Um, when did I do that?

Me: Do what?

God: Promise, Jonah. When did I promise to destroy Nineveh?

Me: Oh, so now we have a selective amnesia thing going, huh? Alright. I’ll bite. You made me come here, even made a fish, a frigging fish, swallow me, just so I could come here and tell these people, that Nineveh shall be overturned in forty days! Remember that?

God: And “overturned” meant what to you? Destruction? Dude, sadist much?

Me: Don’t play semantics with me!

God: I wouldn’t. You are not that smart. Obviously. So let me break it down for you. You walked into a sinful Nineveh and when you walked out, you left a humble city behind. I would say Nineveh is properly “overturned”. Wouldn’t you, Jonah?

Me: You know what, I am not even surprised. You always do this.

God: Do what?

Me: (Mimics Him) Oh, I am a merciful God, nyef nyef compassionate, blah blah forgiving, boo bleeding hoo! And that’s why I didn’t want to come to Nineveh in the first place, because I knew, I swear to God, not you, the God in my head that is more powerful and isn’t such a chicken shit kiss ass, I knew you were going to forgive these heathens! I knew it. But you wouldn’t let me go, would you? Ah ah. You would not even let me die. You just had to send the fish and bring me here and make fun of me. Well, consider me made fun of.

God: Are you done?

Me: No. No, I am NOT done. I am nowhere near, done. I can NEVER be done, with you! Because you are always going to find a new way to screw with me. You know what, just end it, right here, right now!

God: End what?

Me: Me! Just kill me already. I would rather die than be your messenger. Compassion my ass!

God: Dude, why are you so mad? Like, calm down.

Me: Nyef nyef nyef calm down. You don’t get to ask me to calm down. You know what I am going to do right now?

God: Yep.

Me: You do?

God: I am God, aren’t I?

Me: So what am I going to do?

God: Are you testing whether I am really the powerful God I claim to be?

Me: Just answer my question, please.

God: You are going to climb that hill over there and wait for my destruction of this city.

Me: Yep! Yeah, Mr. Know-It-All, that is exactly what I am going to do, because unlike you, I know this city’s repentance is fake, I know they are going to fuck up and you are going to get mad and every heathen head in here is going down! Yeah! That’s what I’m going to do. You, you can do what the hell you do up there on your throne. Is it golden? It’s not made of gold, is it?

There is a hill overlooking the city and the view is wild! So I get up there, find a nice rock, set my prophetic ass upon it, kick my shoes off, stick my legs out and chill. From here, I watch the city down there humiliating themselves.

It’s a little hot though and I am sweltering in the heat, but then this tree, with vines all over it, grows behind me, so suddenly, so fast, placing me in its shade.

Me: Did you do that?

God: What do you think?

Me: Thanks.

God: Mmh-hmm.

Me: Now we wait?

God: Now you wait.

So I wait in the shade…. And wait…. And wait…

And then the tree dies, so fast and so suddenly…. And I am left there, roasting in the heat.

Me: Did you do that?

God: What? Send a worm to eat the roots of the tree I planted in the first place?

Me: Hey God…

God: Hmm?

Me: Have I ever told you that being a prophet really sucks?

God: You have mentioned it. Eight hundred and twelve times before.

Me: Make this the eight hundred and thirteenth time?

God: I can do that. You still waiting for me to destroy the city?

Me: And every heathen in it, yes.

God: You are a bit of a racist, you know that, right?

Me: You are not killing them, are you?

God: Nope.

Me: Even though they worship idols?

God: Yep.

Me: And are violent?

God: Yep.

Me: And love killing your people?

God: Yep.

Me: Why? Because they said they are sorry and cried a few tears?

God: Yyyyep.

Me: Hey God…

God: Hmm?

Me: Can you just, kill me? Like, just do me a favor and kill me. I can’t do this shit anymore.

God: Why are you so mad?

Me: Because you won’t even let me keep the tree. You provided me with a beautiful tree and then you killed it… like, come on! What do you want from me?

God: Have you thought that maybe this whole thing isn’t about the Ninevites, but about you? The pagan sailors and the pagan city of Nineveh, they honor me. But you and Jeroboam, who are supposed to be my people, you don’t.

Me: Really? You are going to compare me to that asshole?

God: Listen. If you are so upset about the dead plant, imagine how upset I would be about eviscerating an entire city. I mean, look at them. Even their cows are sorry. Would it kill you to show a little love Jonah? A little compassion? Just a little? I am here Jonah and I am asking for your understanding. I have never done that with anyone before. I didn’t do it with Moses, I didn’t do it with David and I didn’t even do it with Elijah and I loved that kid. But I am here, asking you, Jonah the asshole from Gath-hepher, please, I cannot destroy Nineveh, because these are actual people and I love them even when you don’t. They just lost their way for a minute there, but now they are back on track. If me hurting the vine that provided you with shade hurts you so much, shouldn’t I be more concerned about hurting the human beings in Nineveh? Jonah… Jonah… Hey dude, are you there? Jonah, hello… Jon…

 

(Howdy 🙂

I really need to stop greeting people like that! In the meantime, have you grabbed your copy of my novel ZOO? If yes, have you grabbed one for your friend too? No? Hmm. That is such an un-friend thing to do, wouldn’t you say?

But don’t worry. My birthday is in 5 days. And because I am awesome I don’t want a gift. Instead, I would love to give you something. For my birthday. Somebody did mention after all, that as I grow older and wiser (hopefully) I should take philanthropy more seriously.

So by 10th October 2018, if you buy TWO COPIES of ZOO, you get them both at 1400/= only. But you have to buy two copies. One for you and one for your friend. But you have to pay for them BY 10th OCTOBER 2018 AT MIDNIGHT.

Well folks, never say I didn’t give you a gift for my birthday.

Before I forget, if you bought a copy for yourself already and would love to get ONE OTHER COPY for your friend before October 10th, you will get it for 700/= only. But only if you have already grabbed a copy before. That cool?

As usual,

Paybill Number: 762362

Account Number: ZOO

Cost of one book: 900/=

Cost of two books until October 10th at midnight: 1400/=

Note: You foot delivery costs

Theme: Buy a friend a book, because that’s what friends are for!)

 

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4 COMMENTS

  1. Haha! You are shitty Charles. I am still stuck at the Dildo part. The god of erections.

    F is definitely not for fish but fucked up. A fucked up Jonah. But this took me back to a time when I was ‘overturning’. From a boy to a man. With a turban 👳 on my head.The biblical stories kept me company. But I never got to enjoy Jonah’s story like I did.

    And of course I read about Hosea and that shit hurt the worst. Until Songs of Solomon and I had a migraine. A head splitting ache. On the head with a turban.

    I loved this.

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