A special message for the recently dead

Hi folks. Sorry I haven't been around, but you know how it is, one minute you're vacationing in hell, the next minute it's several months later and you can't seem to account for where all the time has gone.

What was hell like, you ask? At the risk of being too cute by half, I just have to say that it was a hell of a bender. What was it really like? Ever been to Buffalo NY? Imagine it a lot hotter and not quite as smelly. No but really, what was hell like? Now, now, chances are you'll know soon enough.

Anyways, I've been home, or more accurately, pseudo-home back in purgatory for a few months now, but I just haven't been inspired to write anything. I've barely been inspired to get my ass off the couch, truth be told. But with the recent news of the Pope's death, well let's just say that schadenfreude beats lethargy hands down. And with that, I'd like to address the rest of this post to his Holiness, ex-Pope John Paul II.

Hiya there, Holiness. Getting settled in? I hear they're giving you the red carpet treatment. Good, good. You know, Johnny... you don't mind if I call you "Johnny", do you? Last time we met, years ago, you asked me to call you "Johnny". You also asked me to "back the fuck off" with the good works and all because it was crimping your style as the holiest being on the planet.

But I digress. I was going to say, Johnny, that we may have had our differences in the past. But that's all water over the bridge, eh? We're both dead and will be for all of eternity, with nothing but our press clippings to look back upon. And whatever perks we can finagle to look forward to. Speaking of which, I hear that they gave you my old place up there. Sure is a nice view, isn't it? I hear you've redecorated, and chucked all my plants.

No, no, I'm not bitter. Far from it. Why? Because I can always take comfort in the knowledge that my headline-stealing dead bulimic was a celebrity. A well-loved celebrity. Hell, she was royalty. Did you hear that, Holiness? ROYALTY! Not some dumbass cracker nobody with a feeding tube, nosiree. Put that in your censer and smoke it, you bastard!

Happy New Year!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

I only have time for a hellishly cheap postcard, but I promise a full report soon.

It's going to be a hellish holiday!

Well I'll be damned! Or, more accurately, I'll be with the damned, because I've just been given an anonymous gift: a two-week, all-expenses-paid trip to Hell for the holidays! Thank God, I was going out of my skull with boredom here. It really does wear you down, being here. And though I'd grab at any chance to go anywhere that is simply not-here, Hell seems like a perfect place to spend Christmas. After all, Christmas is pretty much hell-on-earth for 99% of people, why not cut the crap and actually spend the holidays in Hell?

All I can say is, someone up there, (or down there?) must really like me. Probably the keen insight I displayed in my comparative analysis of Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory got me this once-in-an-afterlifetime opportunity. Just think, I'll get a chance to see how the other half lives, check out the sights, and take home some souvenirs to brighten up this dump. And even though a little voice is whispering to me that this may not be the brightest thing I've ever done, well... what the hell, eh?

Holy Crap!

Jesus wept! Please, someone please tell me that this site is a parody!

A comparative analysis

I know that I've been a little slow with the updates, but I've been busy. I promised myself I'd learn html and dammit, that's just what I've been doing! But the sweat of my non-corporeal brow is your gain, because now I can get all blog-fancy without having to rely on photoshop and my buttocks. As proof, I humbly submit the following table, all coded by yours truly. It's a comparative analysis of heaven, hell, and purgatory. Because I know you're all dying to find out. Before actually dying, that is.

	Heaven	Purgatory	Hell
accommodations	as lavish or modest as you wish	endless identical Motel 6 rooms (in beige and lavender)	endless identical pits of flame and sorrow (in beige and lavender)
Internet	T3 connections for anyone who wants one	decent ADSL, but long waiting lists	instant access through AOL only
cuisine	infinite variety of delicious food. never gain an ounce	fast food on every corner. pizza delivery to your door.	White Castle on every corner.
music	some of the best musicians ever	who'd of thought that there were so many dead hippy buskers? blech.	the rest of the best musicians ever
weather	a variety of microclimates to meet every taste	today: sunny and warm tomorrow: sunny and warm 300,000 days from now: fucking sunny and warm	not as sunny and much warmer
key positive aspects	glorious oh glorious! Basking in God's Love. And did I mention the buffet?	predictability	more schadenfreude than you can shake a stick at
key negative aspects	purity, bliss, and contemplating God's love not quite as fulfilling as one might expect	emptiness and endless repetition exactly as boring as one might expect	eternal punishment, lake of fire, flaying of skin and so-forth apparently quite unpleasant for the non-masochists
mitigating factor	you get used to it	you get used to it	you get used to it

There you have it. The afterlife, pared down and in-a-nutshellified for your edification and entertainment. But I have to admit it was a pain in the ass to make, so do me a favour and don't bother asking me to type any html code again.

Ever.

Thank you.

The awesome power of the Internet !

I was having a discussion in a chatroom the other day with someone who was having trouble accepting the fact that the post-living Mother Theresa had become a foul-mouthed, gin-swilling cynic with a mean temper. My gentle reply ("I prefer vodka, you dumb fuck!") did little to assuage him.

What struck me as funny was that apparently he had no problem accepting that I would have Internet access in the afterlife. The fact that I bother web-surfing, blogging, chatting, etc. wasn't a problem either. It was just my personality he took issue with.

And then I remembered a line I had heard somewhere. Something about how everyone gets their knickers in a knot when no one around Clark Kent notices that he is actually Superman, (and who among us hasn't thought "Those glasses are the flimsiest disguise imaginable! Are you people fucking stupid? C'mon, it's obvious!"), and yet we all accept unquestioningly that Superman can fly, beat up skyscrapers, toss around railway cars, and so forth.

Unfortunately, I can't remember who came up with the above bit. I suspect it was the late great Bill Hicks, but I couldn't turn anything up on google. Now here's where you come in. I want to harness the awesome power of the Internet. If any of you dear readers know who first pointed out the absurdity of focusing our disbelief on Superman's poorly disguised alter-ego rather than his reality-defying powers, drop me a line or leave a comment. Otherwise, I'll have to pretend that I came up with it.

Oh, and in case you were wondering... I was finally able to convince my chatroom friend of my identity simply by pointing him to this link. If Black Panther Party co-founder Bobby Seale can end up shilling "Barbecue 'N with Bobby" books, then who's to say Mother Theresa isn't stuck in purgatory, drinking a vodka and tonic in her housecoat, writing blog entries, and downloading lesbian midget erotica? Awesome!

More links to the hellbound

The more time I spend online, the more I simply don't get it. For example, what the flaming fuck is this?

Tell you what, this has me so riled I'll try and post a picture for you here...


(Bad photoshop plus dead pets make the baby Jesus weep.) 

These clowns take a photo of your dead pet and superimpose it on a picture of Jesus amidst the clouds. Poorly. For over a hundred bucks.

I don't want to come across as bitter or anything, but why, OH WHY LORD are these people not currently spending eternity being sodomized by cloven-hooved insurance lobbyists in the lake of fire? And I get sent to purgatory just for suggesting that God is being a little too, well, laissez faire about humanity? Julius Irving Christ-on-a-stick!!! I mean, this thing is wrong on so many levels, I don't even know where to begin.

Let's set aside what a mockery of our Lord this is. On a simple aesthetic level, it borders on the criminal. The Son of Man looks like he's just exhaled a bong hit all over some damned dog's disembodied head. And don't get me started at how poor the cut-n-paste is here. I could do a better job photoshopping, and I'm 94 years old. And dead. Hell, my ass could do better. I'll prove it. I'll just tape this mouse to my butt here.... just a minute now... there we go. Download some stock images. Lessee... Stock cloud jpg. ...Check. The dog isn't cute enough... ah! There's a better one. Now, if one Jesus will bring in the rubes, then five Jesi will really get 'em reaching for their wallets. Save image, and voila:


(We really, really, really, really love your pet.) 

There you go, rubes. I'll do the same for your dearly departed pet for a mere fifty bucks. What the hell, I'll do it for a lousy fifth of bourbon. Just enough to get blind drunk and forget what kind of egregious fuckwits populate the Internet these days.

catching up on some e-mail

I just realised that I've been a bit remiss in checking my e-mail. I guess that I was so excited over having a home connection again, that I was distracted by other online fun. Don't get me wrong, it was nice to have an Internet café close by. Nice for all of about five minutes. For one thing, there's no privacy. People look at you funny for viewing the most innocent of websites. The place smells of stale sweat and the lighting is miserable. And then there's the not inconsiderable fact that no matter where in the world (and the planes of existence beyond) that I go, and no matter which public-use computer terminal I choose to sit in front of, some inconsiderate fuckwit has reset the keyboard language settings to Cyrillic or Japanese or somesuch.

Anyways, it's nice to finally be able to read the Daily Rotten and Pat Freestone in peace without having some German exchange student breathing down my neck waiting to use my machine. So nice that I got carried away and forgot to check my e-mail until today.

Not that there was much to catch up on. Invitations for drinks from a few idiots who haven't yet realised that I'm no longer in heaven. Some snide jibes from a few who have. Several offers to (permanently and/or temporarily) enlarge my nonexistent penis. And about a dozen lengthy e-mails from St. Francis.

Poor Francis. He hasn't come to terms with the centuries that have passed since his, er, passing. Unfortunately, this means that he's perpetually confused and a bit of a prude. He's also sweet on me. Not that I try to encourage him, but since he's the only one of those worthless bastards up there who offered to water my plants, I'm not exactly discouraging him. He really is quite nice in his own way. And dull. And persistent. And earnest. I think I'll tell him I'm a lesbian.

Fuck it, or at least part of it

What was I thinking the other night? Must've been the vodka. The hell with not swearing! Here's a big secret for those of you worried about the fate of your immortal soul: God doesn't sweat the small stuff. Do you really think He gives a flaming rat's ass about potty mouth? He doesn't. And He sure as shit didn't put me here because of cussing in and of itself. Nosirree. I figure my being yanked out of heaven and dumped into purgatory probably has more to do with the seething black wall of rage and hate that overwhelms me at the drop of a hat. At a guess.

...but I still plan on learning html.

Looking on the brighter side

It occurs to me that as long as I'm here, I might as well do something constructive with my time. While I was alive, I was able to kill two birds with one stone by reaching out to the world's needy. Not only did it get me on heaven's A-list, it also helped while away the hours. But what can I do here with what may very well be eternity? What to do, what to do? I know! I'll teach myself html.

hmmmmm... not exactly my most public-spirited project. Maybe I'll try and cut down on the swearing too. That ought to cover it.

Internet connection + soul crushing boredom = another blog title list

Here's a list of blog titles that for one reason or another made me think of purgatory. Not that I read the blogs themselves or anything. After all, this is purgatory, not hell.

waiting and wanting

Daily Grind

Patience Is A Virtue

grey street

I Hope Tomorrow Is Like Today

Are We There Yet?

...and the most reminiscent-of-purgatory title I've ever encountered:

Writings from North Idaho

I was wrong

Purgatory isn't California after all. There are no homeless. Everyone has food, shelter, medical care, etc. Everyone drinks too much, though few people do drugs. And it's really, really, really fucking boring. It's Finland.

Welcome to Dullsville

How can this place be so boring? It doesn't let up, damn it! I've got more channels of TV than back home, but that just makes me flip through them more impatiently than usual. Everyone is working on some creative project, (like writing a screenplay or learning feng shui), but I get the sense that this is a poor attempt to mask the fact that they're all shallow and vain. The weather is perfect. Old timers who've been here for centuries assure me that every single day is sunny and warm, without exception. But even that's getting on my frigging nerves and I've only been here a few days. And then it dawned on me. Purgatory is California.

Getting my bearings

Okay. So it's been a couple of days and I'm starting to get the feel of the place. My appartment is pretty nondescript and resists any attempts at adding a personal touch. It's smaller than my condo in heaven and the neighbourhood is definitely a step down. But things could be worse. I'm even going to get an Internet connection, but I'll have to wait a week. Until then, popping into the Internet café across the street gives me an excuse to get out and about. If only this place wasn't so, well, you know, boring!

It doesn't look good

Oh shit. I should have checked my e-mail before posting yesterday. Apparently, I'm not going to find my way back to my condo as easily as I thought. Apparently, I cursed God in a rather drunken and colourful manner the other night while watching the election results. Apparently, even though an unusually high number of people were cursing God on election night, heavenly role model-types are held to a higher standard. Apparently, I'm in purgatory. And it looks like I'm going to be stuck here either for all time, or until I "sort some of my shit out," whichever comes first. Fuck. I better get someone to water my plants.

Where am I?

Like most of the world, and Americans in particular, I woke up this morning with a distinct sense of "Holy shit! What the fuck happened?" Unlike most of the world, I am asking the question not because of the American election, but because I seem to have woken up in a rather nondescript room that is not my own.

Although my predicament might be election related. Oh, I know that heaven has no "official" stand on the election, but some of us are more keenly interested than others. In spite of my attempts to be "above it all", I found myself sucked into the whole thing. Naturally, I wanted Bush out of there. I'm a bleeding heart, not like that should come as a surprise to anyone. After all, I spent a long lifetime feeding the poor.

Anyways, a bunch of us were watching the results last night on the BBC (We don't get FOX news. This is heaven, remember?), and when things started looking bad for Kerry, the drinking turned a bit grim and businesslike. I think I got cut off somewhere around midnight Eastern Standard Time. Things get kind of fuzzy after that. Now I don't know where the hell I am, or how I got here. Oh well. At least there's an Internet cafe across the street.

Blog titles I actually like

I just looked over my last couple of blog entries and had a troubling though: What's to seperate my blog from that of, say, some unemployed and overweight 34-year-old who still lives in his parents basement getting his cynical post-ironic jollies? I mean, sure I may be 94 years old. And a figure of adulation throughout the Christian world. And dead. But other than that? I'll be damned if the content isn't drifting into a certain all-too-familiar territory.

Well I'm better than that. For the record, I do not automatically hate every single thing I see. And it's high time I proved it. So here are some blog titles I actually like.

Same rules apply as before. I haven't read the blogs or anything. Let's not get carried away here folks. But at least now you can see that I don't have some knee-jerk need to slag every single thing I encounter, nor do I get a near-sexual thrill out of pointing a smirking finger at others. I just don't do that. Why? Because I'm filled with God's love.

The Tapeworm of Puget Sound

The End of Pants

How to Bath a Toaster Properly

To hell with you and all your friends

I Ate Nine Slices Of Little Caesar's Pizza the Other Day

Aliens, Guns, and Boobs

fuckity fucking fuck

I walk. I talk. I shop. I sneeze...

my sweetheart (the drunk)

Catholic and Enjoying It!

More Blog Title Reviews

How about some more blog title reviews? It's not like afterlife is so exciting these days that I have anything else to write about. Same rules as last time: I didn't read the blogs, just the titles. You probably shouldn't read them either. I can't stress this enough, people.

BobPeterson4323_Blog - not to be confused with BobPeterson4322_Blog

THE THING WITH THE STUFF - beside the whosit with the thingamabob

Serenity NOW - Serene yet? How about now? Now. NOW! NOWWW!!!!!

Forks Action Committee - Item 3 on the agenda, the continuing hostility towards the spoon community...

Got anymore stuff you wanna throw at me!!!!?? - Ann Coulter's blog?

A Fork in the Road - It's those damned spoons that did it, I just know it. Bastards!

Life & Times of a Gay man in SF - Wow! What are the odds?

Still Waters Run Deep - and smelly

Pools of Sorrow, Waves of Joy - add a splash of pretension and end with a puddle of vomit (what is it with all these poetasters and their water imagery?)

I'm the Best at Ruining My Life - we all have to be good at something

what am i thinking about?????????? - at a guess, I'd say question marks

The Decadence Of My Annals - starring Rocco Siffredi and... huh? What? oh. "Annals" Nevermind.

It'll all be over soon... - praise God!

I'd also like to thank the also-rans: out of the few hundred-odd blog titles I scanned, there were 42 blogs entitled "my blog", 31 blogs entitled "my life", 19 blogs entitled "my diary", 28 blogs containing the phrase "random thoughts", and about a million that contain either "ramblings" "musings" or "ruminations".

Blog Title Reviews

I may have infinity before me, but infinity is no match for the sheer volume of crap available online. I've had it with reading random blogs to try and find something worthy of sharing. But as I'm still driven to help my fellow man (you are all Catholic, right?), I decided to perform a little post-living public service. I've rifled through a hundred or so random blog titles and reviewed the best (read: worst) so that you won't have to bother. Now, don't get me wrong, I didn't read their damned blogs or anything. I'm not that much of a masochist. Nope. Just the titles. And the reviews are of just the titles.

uncanny strange deja vu - not to be confused with run of the mill boring deja vu

I'm Jaded now...whatever that means.. - it means rainbows and cotton candy

Opinions Like Kittens - everyone has one and yours stinks?

everytime u think about me i think about u twice - the only time I think about u twice is when spelling "vacuum"

forced to do this blog - Dear Mrs. Smith, Johnny needs to work on his attitude in class.

WhY R u SO fAr aWaY fRoM Me?? miZ u sO mUcH!! - AAAHHRRGG!! MY EYES!! JESUS CHRIST MY FUCKING EYES!!!!!!!

El LaBeRiNtO dE lOs EsPeJoS rOtOs - Oh great. Now the Spanish are doing it too.

shear sickness - the adventures of a blogging HIV positive hairdresser

I HATE MY BOYFRIEND - so do we

Brain Poop - actually, I like this title. It appeals to my finer sensibilities.

Different Opinions Make Life Interesting - no they don't

I hate cute quizzes

Ever notice the little Next Blog link in the top right corner? Unfortunately, I have. I just spent the last two hours randomly popping from blog to blog. Christ what a waste of everyone's time! I suppose that it's not so bad for me, what with being dead and all. It's not like my time is precious or anything.

Still, it was an annoying experience.

Above and beyond the fact that spelling and grammar are, like, so totally pwned, I have found one particularly grating and ubiquitous feature. Everybody and their frikking dog are getting into these "Which (fill in your oh-so-cute-and-clever-category-here) are you?" thingies. Which Muppet character are you? Which pop diva are you? Which goatse tribute page are you?

Does anyone else find it to be a bit much? I mean, bring back Mahir, bring back dancing hamsters, hell, give me some fat fucking kid with a lightsaber, just consign this trend to the dustbin already.

Here is the last ever "Which [whatever] are you?" quiz you will ever have to take. And you don't even have to go to Quizilla to take it. Which is a good thing, because I have it on good authority that anyone who spends more than five minutes at Quizilla will be spending some pretty dull millennia in purgatory. (as for anyone who actually opens an account or creates a quiz... does the phrase "lake of fire" mean anything?)

Anyways, for your entertainment and edification, Mother Freaking Theresa Presents:


Which human being are you?

1. I enjoy taking these online gag-quizzes.
2. I'd sooner eat a bug.

If you answered at all, please stop it. No, really.

Indulge me in a list or two...

Well the heavenly FAQ was such a hit, I thought I'd use another cheap crutch. That's right, a top ten list. There's nary a word of a lie to be found in Mother Freaking T's...

Top Ten Things A Mormon Once Told Me I Would Find in the Afterlife:

10. An endless banquet of delicious food.

9. Great music, anytime you want.

8. The best skiing you could ever imagine.

7. Luxurious quarters for all.

6. Endless magnificent vistas.

5. Vibrant cities.

4. Never get lost, or want for anything.

3. Good, friendly neighbours who love you.

2. Feel fit, awake, and healthy 24/7

1. God's love surrounds you always.

Top Things Actually Found in Heaven:

1. No mormons.

What's heaven like?

For some strange reason, the dead have been reluctant to share the secrets of the Universe with the living. There's no really good reason for this, other than the cheap thrill of frustrating the curious with a big fat wall of obtuse. Either that, or God hates it when someone shouts out the punchline before He's finished telling the joke.

Well, I'm here to change all that. Here's the heavenly FAQ for your edification:

What's the afterlife like? More or less the same as life on earth. Eat, drink, shit, and sleep. Mix it up with some television and trips to the corner store, and you've got the crux of it. Except that it lasts forever.

So that's it, is it? Pretty much, yeah.

Isn't that a rather simplistic view? It's not a view, it's a description. And if you've got a beef, take it up with God. I don't make the rules. But I wouldn't bother Him if I were you. What with the way the world's been going these days, He's been feeling increasingly Old Testament. Not exactly His most approachable mood, if you know what I mean.

OK, then what's heaven like? Heaven is exactly like Star Trek: The Next Generation, there's no hunger, poverty, disease, etc., except it's not quite as cloyingly politically correct.

No Heavenly Endorsements

Some people found the other day's "pinheaded chimp" link a tad partisan. Let me explain, for the record, that I have little interest in the current race for President of the United States. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that there is little buzz about it anywhere in heaven. Oh sure, the Armageddon hawks are all eager to see their boy Dubya usher in the End Times. Michael is glued to Fox news and the heavenly hosts are on high alert 24/7. And the hippies all seem to favour Kerry (except for Saint Vitus, who claims to support Nader, but I think he's just trying to be funny or something). But generally, no one gives a shit. Anyways, as far as yesterday's link goes, I'm just calling 'em as the Internet sees 'em, and it's not necessarily a reflection on my own personal blah blah blah etc etc etc. ...Although we all know that the Internet is never wrong.

Surrounded by yes-men

Ooohh! Oooooohh! Oh my aching dead sides! I did a google search for the exact phrase "surrounded by yes-men" (don't ask why) and accidentally ended up doing an image search instead of a text search. Priceless!!!! See for yourself.

That's right. Two photos. One of the "Elvis of Hollywood" himself, George Lucas. And the other picture was of earnest film student fave, Canuck director Atom Egoyan.

Damn but Google image search sure is fun! Wonder what I get if I try "pinheaded chimp"?

Ooops!

It seems that not only does the Son of Man ego-google, He checks each and every damned link that He finds. Furthermore, He's a little more thin-skinned than one might believe, though not as thin-skinned as Warren Kinsella. Anyways, sorry about the "hippy" crack, OK?

Everyone's going apeshit for Gmail

And I do mean everyone! The way I see it, if He really really wants a Gmail account that bad, he should work some miracles or something, but apparently He "doesn't operate that way." He's just going to sit and wait and hope that someone with Gmail invites to give out notices His blog, which He never updates. Damned hippy.

Warren Kinsella

I would like to take this moment, apropros of nothing, to point out that Warren Kinsella is a self-aggrandising dumbass. There. That felt better.

an awkward dinner

Had dinner with Francis of Assissi again. Damn but he's a dullard. It's all well and good to be an ascetic in life. But once it's passed, well, live a little, dammit! I know that I gotta kiss up to the big boys if I want this saint thing to go off without a hitch, but a jug of water and a crust of bread for dinner? Next time, I'm stopping at Taco Bell on the way over.

another day

Woke up. Had breakfast. Read some. Had a snooze. Julius Irving Christ, is the afterlife ever boring!!

Carpdammit!

For all you franksters, I present POLYCARP! hey! Quit yer Carpin! It's just a lame inside joke.