Satan Blog II

Sometimes I feel like I’m never going to meet The One. I mean, I could have anyone I want down here, but it’s not the same. Yesterday a beautiful woman came up to me and said “Did it hurt… when you fell from heaven?” Then she walked away laughing with her friends. She made me feel so small. I condemned her to sh*t live lobsters for eternity, but it didn’t help. I just want to meet someone who lets me be me – someone I can feel comfortable impaling babies around. Ugh, I can be such a girl sometimes.

Anyway, I don’t need a girl – I’ve got Boots, my cat. Actually, he’s been a real pain lately. If he doesn’t get the souls of ten rapists every day, he gets really, really cranky. The worst part is he’ll only eat the souls if they’re heavy with regret. It’s like “Boots! Just eat the souls! It doesn’t matter if they’re prepared a certain way, they’re still the SAME SOULS!”

So I’m doing this thing where I’m Netflix-ing all of AFI’s Top 100 movies. I’ve only gotten through about ten – right now I’m psyched about #91, My Fair Lady, and #90, The Jazz Singer. The only bummer is it takes SO long for the DVDs to get here in the mail. I wish I could say I love them all, but black and white movies are so B-O-R-I-N-G. Also, don’t even ask me about Little Nicky. If I had a kid – which I DO NOT! – he wouldn’t talk like a retard.

Lately I’ve been doing some lost-soul-searching, and it’s occurred to me that over the past few thousand years, I’ve been getting complacent. When I first shacked up here, I was thinking up all kinds of ingenious punishments: pushing a boulder up a hill just to watch it roll back down, vultures eating your liver only to have it grow back, all the classics. Nowadays, I settle for “you’ll get sawed in half slowly every day.” I’m making a resolution to improve my my eternal tortures. Stay tuned.

A question I get asked a lot is “Which bad things that happen in the world did you cause?” So here’s a partial list, with credit given where credit is due.

Darfur: All me

Earthquakes in Indonesia: Nope, God

AIDS: My birthday present to myself

Cat AIDS: Yes (don’t tell Boots)

Your long commute: On the 95, yes; on 3 and 17, it’s just the construction

When you’re walking behind someone and they’re going really slow, so you go to pass them, and they sort of shift over in front of you: Sorry, yes

Pennies: Nope

The wet kind of poop where you have to keep wiping over and over and over: That’s just your diet

The Magic Bullet Blending System: Yes, but not in connection with my evil duties, just as sort of a side project.

Mind of Mencia: No, but I’m a fan.