How to get into Heaven - (part II)

In the afterlife Heaven's definitely the place to be and everyone will want in.  That being the case getting in might be as tough as trying to get in the hottest nightclub in town; only the beautiful get in -the beautiful of spirit.  St Peter would be the hugely muscled bouncer with the clipboard at the front door, and very few would automatically make the VIP list (Mother Theresa, John Paul II, whoever invented Viagra...)  You might find that just not being a dick only means you haven't made yourself uglier.  The thing that will really count is have you been beautiful, which would make you beautiful -again, in spirit.

But if the nightclub analogy is too tacky for the heaven lover in you then I've got another.  Why not, nobody really knows what it'll be like so one imagining is as good as another.

What if it’s done more like the NFL draft where your good plays (in college) are weighed against your bad?  Your touchdowns count for a lot, but so do your fumbles.  Even Walter Peyton fumbled once in a while, but his touchdowns far outnumbered them.  We should learn from that example.  He’s in the Pro Football Hall of Fame AND heaven (probably). 

Keep it in mind for those times you just can't help being bad.  For every time you fart in your boss’s coffee cup you’d better make damn sure you help a few old ladies cross the street.  And if there’s only one old lady then help her cross a couple of streets whether she wants you to or not.  Even if it takes her out of her way.  Tell her Matlock’s in town doing a book signing a few blocks away, she’ll go.

So how else can one stock up on touchdowns?  Glad you asked.  The opportunities are legion, but you have to go further than simply not being a dick.  You need to go that extra mile;

I'm not saying you have to cure cancer.  Let's be real, you're probably not smart enough.  Although if you are you should definitely go for it.  You'll get fortune and fame here now, and absolutely get in up there later.

For everybody else simple opportunities abound.  Go on a date with somebody a full point or two below you on the ten-scale, but without making them feel it.  No need to go for an absurd disparity –like a Julia Roberts/Lyle Lovett match, unless you really want some prime real estate in the afterlife.  Let’s say George Clooney stopped dating models and married Susan Boyle.  He’d get a house in Mother Theresa’s Cul de Sac, maybe a nice expanded colonial next to John Paul II’s three story Victorian.

What else would help?

Let her hold the remote.  Every night. (might as well get used to GLEE and GREY'S ANATOMY)

Let him host/go to poker nights.  Without complaints.  (extra points for serving finger sandwiches or homemade dip) (extra, extra points for getting all dolled up so he looks like a stud and his friends get jealous)

I'm sure you have suggestions of your own, let's hear 'em!
And if you liked this post and this site please pass it to whomever you think will enjoy it -the more the merrier.  It'll definitely count as one of your good deeds -might even put you over the top. (better to send it to two or three people, just to be safe)

In the beginning...

...there was only the headers above and empty fields below.  Yet all about was blankness.  Yea did I, being a Load, cry out from the blankness "Let there be write!"  And lo the Good Load did write for six days and six nights (on and off).  And looking down from the headers upon all he had written, the Load saw that it was good.  Except for a few misspellings.  And an over-developed sense of the dramatic.  And a pompous tendancy for self-glorification... -but other than that, yea the Load did see that it was good.  And on the seventh day the Good Load did rest.  For it was Sunday, and the NY Giants kick off at 1.  Amen, praised be the Load.

Some might think it's unfair to compare creating a blog from scratch to creating, uh, creation from scratch but I think it's harder.  For one thing I have a ton of restrictions and limitations hemming in my creativity.  God didn't have to deal with any pop-up windows saying "those dinosaurs cannot be placed here as they will freeze and die out during the ice ages.  You must first reconfigure either their ability to maintain their own internal temperatures or recalibrate the planetary climate range..."  No, He just put down the this-a-saurus here and the that-a-saurus there and walked away.  If it didn't work out that was their hard luck (ending up as gasoline-a-saruses).  By then He had moved on to his new hobby of landscaping, garden design and overy restrictive regulations on fruit consumption. 

I'll get no such free pass and will instead have to endure comparisons to any number of other blogs, vlogs and internet offerings.  Somebody is sure to comment that I'm not as funny as that site with pictures of tiny kittens in hats, or even tinier kittens in tea cups or yet tinier hat-wearing tea cups inside kittens (?) or whatever the thinking-challenged find funny these days when Jersey Shore isn't on. 

On the other hand whatever God made had to be considered great because there was nothing to compare it to.  It demanded worship based on its unprecedentedness alone.  Kind of like the awe Henry Ford must have basked in when he rolled out the Model-T.  Do you know what that car was like?  No power steering, you had to crank it from the front to get it to start, top speed of 18mph, engine smoke blew right into the front seat, no radio, CD player, air conditioning, windshield wipers, power anything... yet with nothing to compare it to it was considered a chariot of the gods.  You couldn't give a car like that away today; not even a one-legged shoeless convict in the midst of a prison break would take it.  "No thanks, I'll just hop."

That's what brought about this blog.  I want to tell all of you, and humbly suggest to Him if He's reading, about all the upgrades and fixes I'd bring to this Model-T of a world to make it into the butterfly-doored pewter Maserati of a world I think it could still be molded into -If I were God.