I recently survived a near death experience. I won’t go into the details, but if you’re ever in a situation where it seems like poking a sleeping badger with a stick is a good idea, you might want to think twice. Like most of you, I pictured God’s kingdom as an oasis of love and tranquility. While this is mostly true, it turns out heaven is not as perfect as people would have you believe. Don’t get me wrong, you’re going to love it! You just might want to keep the following things in mind:
While cascading waterfalls do, in fact, surround heaven, the water is an unpleasant, murky color. Plus, the sound of the falls is kind of deafening, which makes it hard to hear the mermaid when she calls out the Bingo numbers.
The restaurant is magnificent, but I hope you like green beans and mashed potatoes with your steak. Substitutions are not allowed.
You still have to go to church every week. God tries to make it fun, but not in a good way. Maybe it’s just my Catholic upbringing, but I think a church sermon should be more about the message and less about the knock-knock jokes.
Everything is shared in heaven. This is great when it comes to stuff like the candy apple machine, but kind of gross when it comes to the tampons.
I don’t know what it was like playing a game of baseball with Lou Gehrig or Babe Ruth in real life, but in heaven it’s a lot like a bunch of 4-year-olds playing T-ball – every hit is an in-field homerun, the game’s always a tie and you get an orange slice when it’s all over.
You’ll be happy to learn unbaptized babies go to heaven. They keep them in a giant glass bin and you can walk right in and pet them whenever you want.
Sorry believers, but Elvis is living it up in the afterlife. Sorry everyone else, but his herpes came with him.
If you think heaven is covered in lush, verdant foliage, think again. If you want a more accurate mental picture, think of Baltimore. Then, add roving swarms of bees.
No one ever has to do laundry because new clothes simply appear on your bed every morning. The bad news is that Gary, the guy who puts them there, is kind of creepy and stares at you, licking his lips, when he thinks you’re sleeping.
Go ahead and get used to the taste of Metamucil now. The senior citizens run the show up there and that stuff is in everything.
If you want a job, you can have any one you want. The AR (angel resources) manager will try and pressure you into Poop Scooper, but if you hold your ground, she’ll give up eventually.
There is poop everywhere.