Irvine Welsh. Acid house (the Acid house) (№ 896)

God looked Bob in the eye. He looked crestfallen.
- Just shut up a minute, boy. Let's clearly define one thing. Every damn time I come down here, some brutes tell me about I, ***s should or should not do. Either that or I had to engage in some philosophical fuckin discourse with some little jerk with the student about the nature of myself, my omnipotence and all that crap. I learn much satiated all this self-justification; you assholes still not Mature enough to criticize me! I made you idiots, in my image and likeness. You all have done, you, your mother and sort it out. This idiot Nietzsche are all screwed up when I said that I died. I'm not dead; I just sent all the ***. I have nothing more to do than to solve the problems of each goat. All the rest care, so why should I interfere?