Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," stubborn no more in the wake of deity-induced cataclysms!
Dear readers, I surely do appreciate your advice. Finally, brought to my knees, I am going to accept it.
Tonight, after dark, I will pour at the feet of the Dread Tiki an entire bottle of Triple Sec. Please do not tell the Tiki that I had this bottle in my basement unopened from the time of my life (not long ago) when I made those blender drinks with little umbrellas in them. Now I dispense with the blender and the umbrellas, so the Triple Sec can perhaps be of use pacifying a Pacific deity.
This bored god is the worst troublemaker I've ever seen. Since he reared his hypomanic head, I've had to go to the doctor, I've had trouble with both the Heir and the Spare, my basement flooded, and a windstorm blew down the power lines.
Maybe all the trouble our country is in right now stems from some Tiki lurking in the bushes at the White House. I have a whole new respect for this particular set of deities, and a burning desire to get one of them off my back.
Till dark I remain,
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS