Misanthrope

The little man had a stunted soul; he was
a curmudgeon, misanthrope, and malcontent
rolled into one. They say he smiled once and
his face nearly cracked.

Regardless of how beautiful a picture is, he
can find flaws. He hates the sunshine because
it gives him a sunburn. Even a French cream puff
brings a scowl.

For him, nothing ever turns out right. He feels
that it is another day older and deeper in debt.
The only thing you can count on in this world
is Murphy’s law.

In a vivid dream, he came face to face with God.
He looked at God through his eyebrows. With a
surly look, he snarled out, “I thought you didn’t
make any junk; yeah! Well, just look at at the
crack in my fanny.”

by Mike Berger

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