ALIAS POOR YORICK

Hello, God here. No no, no need for that sort of carry on. I've told you before about that. All that God-fearing stuff is so very old-fashioned. Just a simple gidday will do. And a cup of English Breakfast tea would be nice. And a date scone, if you're having one. But please,  no more of that grovelling around on the ground and wailing and all that crap. But while we're on the topic, a bit of gratitude wouldn't go amiss. I mean I'm the one who gave you peacocks, and chili chocolate, and sex. Not that you were supposed to enjoy all three of them at the same time. Yes you ! You grubby little bastard. I know who you are. Just stop it before I rethink the whole freewill thing altogether. Now, where was I .. ah, yeah look I'm thinking about just nicking off altogether. I'm just jack of it really. It's not easy being omnipotent. And as for being omniscient, you think that's cool ? I know what Clive Palmer looks like naked. So just like shut up dudes. ...

Cabinet reshuffle ? Ignore it, it's just a front. Fact is, folks, that Julia's pretty much had it with her Labour Party colleagues and has been looking further afield for someone to rule with. I mean with whom to rule. Guess who she found ? Me ! She stumbled across ALIAS POOR YORICK while cruising the Net looking for ferret jokes to amuse Greg Combet with. I mean, with which to amuse Greg Combet. Read the whole thing, and immediately decided she needed to rule, I mean govern, with me at her side. So it's a done deal. We'll be running the whole country, apart from that boring money stuff. And who can bothered with that. We'll be appointing my personal accountant, Vinnie "The Stoat" Ravioli, as finance minister and Chancellor of the Exchequer. That man can make a tax return sing. He's an artist. Julia and I will look after everything else. We'll rule as a triumvirate. Except with only two of us. Julia says not to worry it'll be all right, s...