by Jim Carruthers

It was a fine sunny Sunday morning that I discovered God... I was in the usual state on ma usual jaunt. Een squintin, heid nippin & a tongue rough enough to polish stones with. I'd set off for the normal prescription: Irn Bru & a paper. The last thought ah had afore ah discovered God was: jeest think in 4 hours, you’ll be scoopin lager & bletherin mair pish.

How did ah discover God? Ah ken folk dae it in aw sorts of ways - onywhere's fae death row tae a spaceship daein' ocht; fae unblockin a bog tae runnin a wean over; but wae me it was easy. Ah discovered God wae his heid in a bin. It was the black t-shirt wae God1 on the back that gied it away. As if he wus a goalie.

So ah pipes up: "Howrie God, no seen yous fur ages."
'n bugger me he stands up, turns roon 'n says: "You got a problem, pal?"
Jeest like that. Afore ah replies ah sees the front o' his t-shirt's got I'm potent written on it. Two lines mind or ah'd no hae taen him serious at aw.
"Naw naw, ah'm just wondrin' hoo ye are. Whit ye lookin fur? Is it the remains o' that kebab or are ye hidin in case the beadle comes along?"
"Ach yer awright Jimmy, ah'm just lookin fur Lucy."
He kent ma name. Ah wus impressed, verra impressed.

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