You know how it's 99% disgusting to throw-up? It stinks, burns, splashes everywhere, makes your eyes water, and cramps up your stomach muscles. BUT, there is the 1%. That far corner of your mind that you don't want to admit is there in the middle of your five alarm fire of hot mess. It is the part that is enjoying the vomiting process. Hopefully, my blog is that 1% .
Monday, January 11, 2010
What Happens Really
I hope when I die there is an afterlife. I will be greeted by my own personal Jesus who will give me a guided tour of the new digs. We will pass down a long, well lit corridor lined with naked, vaginaless (I’m assuming it’s Hell) Zooey Deschanel clones and I’ll be led into my very own theater. Jesus will hand over a 32 gallon popcorn bucket and just as the lights go out and the movie starts, I’ll realize that fucker forgot the butter. It will take a few minutes to recognize my life’s highlight reel, in it I will get to bask in the reliving of peeing on the floor of my nursery school class because I was too shy to ask permission to use the washroom. Laugh all over again about the time I stabbed Gary with a 6” Schrade hunting knife as the last thing he saw before losing consciousness was me licking his blood from the dull blade. Then there was the time I was “caught” masturbating by our French house maid and she made me give her a glass bottom boat(at least I didn’t have to clean up). Then when the movie is over I’ll be placed in a cubicle next to John Banks (I'm pretty sure we died in a murder-suicide) where we’ll spend eternity reading mundane Facebook status updates and not have the ability to unfriend anyone.