I just clipped and posted this fun part of a larger piece.
You haven’t lived until you’ve had a meltdown in front of your friends and died.
Seriously though, this is the story of my experience hanging out with God.
Well, that was a trip. No, thanks to any of you. I melted, then became this puddle. the cat drank me, thinking I was delicious!
So I was up there in front of the Real Justice. And, guess what!
Ha! to all of you! Turns out God hates filling out forms as much as me.
Well I was toast, starting to brown out. But you couldn’t miss the
Major and Only Consciousness, not when he’s breakin into "What if god
was one of us, just a slob like one of us. Just a stranger on the
"So in heaven," I ask myself, condescendingly: "Do you really think
there’d be sweat shops spewing out conveyors of clothes? hmmmm?" "No, I
answer myself, seeing the wisdom of my self’s question. "And in heaven,
do you think there’d be anybody having to slave their lives, er, their,
timelessness, away?" "Indeed!" continued the erudite little puke that I
was having second thoughts about being so proud of, now that it’s me
he’s Socratic dialoguing all over my ass. "Indeed," erudite me said
"It’s heaven, so why would ANYone have to work!?"
Now, of course, he was right, but he didn’t have to stress the
"ANY" that way; it was like he was saying, "It’s obviousto everyone,
dummy; what’d you do catch "brain deadness" all of a sudden? Course he
didn’t say that out loud, but, you see, like I said earlier, I went
through primal therapy, back in the day, so I know a little bit more
about myself than the average schmuck.
So that’s why I can tell when I’m being a dick to me.
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