In the beginning, there was only a dark void and nothingness. Plus, God was having a really kooky dream involving an underwater shootout with anthropomorphic trigger fish.
And God did awaken and realized he had slept in until noon. And God had his "morning constitutional," checked his e-mail, and ran to the store for some smokes. And at the store, God did find buy-one-get-one-free Parliament Lights. And, lo, God did also purchase a Yoo-Hoo. And sixty minutes passed, the first hour.
And God did return to his abode to read webcomics, drink Yoo-Hoo, and eat pretzels. And God discovered a new comic, one he had never read, and called it "Nobody Scores!" And God saw that it was good. And sixty minutes passed, the second hour.
And God began to smell sort of ripe. Thus, God did take a hot shower and tested the acoustic value of the bathroom by singing Elton John’s "I’m Still Standing" very loudly. Then God did take bread outside and fed some geese. Then a goose began to bum-rush God and squawk at him, and God did run away giggling. And sixty minutes passed, the third hour.
And God received a phone call from a friend whom he didn’t particularly want to hang out with, and God did say, "I’m busy all day, give me a call tomorrow" and hoped the friend would fall for it. And it was so, for the friend did say, "OK." And God called the people he had originally wanted to go out with and made plans. Then, God left the house and he did sit in traffic for nearly half an hour. And it was not good. And sixty minutes passed, the fourth hour.
And God entered Best Buy and purchased the Gojira album "From Sirius to Mars." God also debated buying the first volume of "F Troop" (because Cpl. Agarn doth please God) but decided not to. God listened to Gojira, and found that it did rock. And God did brave more traffic, but with the guitar line of "Global Warming" keeping him company, it was good. And a little less than sixty minutes passed, the vague fifth hour.
And God did enter into the land of Chili’s and found his friends. And God ate margarita chicken and drank three whiskey sours. And it was good. And God and his friends did talk about how the length of a mullet is inversely proportionate to the intelligence of the mullet’s owner, how the American political system is, at present, like the Mafia with a few extra billion to throw around, and the fact that Terry Pratchett is a goddamn genius. And God did also decree that it was not weird for him to say "goddamn." And sixty minutes and change passed, the sixth hour or so.
And God stopped at the store and bought a deuce-deuce of Natty Ice (to cap off his buzz) and another Yoo-Hoo (for just before bedtime). And God did return home and vowed to bang out ten pages on a story he’d been working on. And it was so. And it was good. But, of course, God was biased. And God did decide to watch MST3K on DVD for the rest of the night. And sixty minutes passed, the seventh hour.
And God watched MST3K, and verily did he laugh at the antics of Crow, Tom Servo, Gypsy, and Cambot. And God did end the "Joel Vs. Mike" debate by saying "Hey, I think both of ‘em are funny." And God drank his Yoo-Hoo, donned his footie-pajamas, went to sleep, and dreamed he was a little blue dog. And the day was good.