My wise old grandmother used to spend her spare time sewing—in the kitchen, dining room, living room, bedroom, outside. Occasionally she’d leave her scissors somewhere and ask me to go get them. I’d come running back with them, resulting in admonishment: “Don’t run with scissors.”
Well, I regret to tell you that this morning, 55 years later, I was running with scissors. I tripped and fell on the scissors. Stabbed myself right in the heart. Dead before I fell.
My religious friends tell me there’s an afterlife, Heaven and Hell. Wanting to get to my destination as quickly as possible, I chose the Highway to Hell. Maybe my 1989 Saleen Mustang GT would be waiting for me.
Instead, there were 666 buses and 13 super trains. I chose one of the trains.
Well, it took only 13 minutes to get to Hell, but the line to get in was 13 miles long. After waiting in line for 666 hours, I finally got my personal one-on-one with Satan. He looked at my record and told me that I had done way too much good in my life, so he could not admit me. Told me to try Heaven.
Some weird creatures with horns escorted me back to the super train which was waiting for me. I WAS THE ONLY PERSON ON THE TRAIN!
Back to the Earth station to catch the Stairway to Heaven. It took almost 7 hours to get to Heaven, and I was tired as hell. The line was short. Took only 7 minutes to get my personal one-on-one with God. He looked at my record.
Good…. Good…. Great…. Oh, that’s nice…. That’s wonderful…. You did really good…. Ooopsy. What’s this? You disobeyed your wise old grandmother by running with scissors? Sorry. I cannot let you into Heaven. You should always obey your wise old grandmother.
I was denied entrance to Heaven and Hell!
So here I am, back on Earth.
Stuck here for eternity.
Or until the margaritas run out….