Was God a Good Designer?

My cousin, Auna (RIP) went through Budo and the University of Nairobi to become a brilliant architect. I went to school with him earlier on and we shared a deep respect for one another. Steve Job (RIP) of Apple was a  genius in electronic designing, and I only saw him from a distance. Auna and Job are my heroes. Since I admire both a great deal, I decided to channel this question through them: Was God a good designer of man and woman?

Esthetically both agreed that God did a fairly good job. What you see sometimes that make you turn your eyes away quickly is that man or woman decided to do some renovations with too much beer and pork, and the rolling blubber that you see on the streets perverts God's original intent.

 Both Auna and Job had a problem with the structures below the belt. In a woman, down there are all kinds of things too close together. What was he thinking? What designer would make a birth canal so narrow that we have to tear our way through it when we become claustrophobic and decide to get out like yesterday? In the process, with no regard to the kind woman who initiated our life and protected us in a bubble, we even kill her as we get out. Does this look like the work of a benevolent all-loving designer?

Let us not forget the man. He is not off the hook either even if he seemingly has an elegant sac enclosing two pebbles, and to which is attached a cable. Functionally the size of the cable does not matter, but tell it to the man with a tiny peck who had a difficult time among his peers in childhood--he won't believe you. Kids can be cruel: Johnny, your ding-a-ling can't even penetrate a leaf! Did you hear that one about the Acoli prostitute who ran away after seeing the enormous Dinka client's ding-a-long?

Man's problem does not stop on size on the outside. On the inside, the bladder sits on a walnut-sized gizmo , called the prostate. In normal function the gadget squirts some liquid to carry the man's seeds into the female receptacle to begin the frantic trip upstream to burrow into the egg and initiate another life. Let alone prostate cancer, in some men this walnut grows bigger and touches on the bladder. So, as soon as there is some drop of filtration, the pouch sags and touches the sensitive Mr. P and the man has to go. If you have to get to the John three or four times a night, you are not going to be a happy man. Next time you meet a grumpy old man, be understanding!
  

So, overall Auna, the Agnostic and Job, the Buddhist gave God a B- for structural design.