If ambience was my point of concern, I’d go to hell in a heartbeat. I'd like hell, I think; it’s embellished, I've heard, with variety and excitement, torture and trauma. Heaven strikes me as unadorned and clinically bare. The description of heaven begs the question—who designed it? If the answer includes this hobo, then that’s one more reason why I wouldn’t want to stay here. I can see colorful articles of food decorating his beard. Jiminy fucking Cricket, aren't there any decent barbershops here, or a place to take a bath?
Clouds are probably okay for a week, but every day for eternity, now that’s inconceivably and inconveniently boring, almost a contrived punishment. Who would think you’d be punished in heaven? And what about stability? Imagine you get a chance to hobnob with an incredibly sexy angel when the fucking cloud under your feet disappears as rain.
Haven’t we already suffered all sorts of clouds, having spent an entire lifetime with a sky over our silly heads? Given that, how the holy fuck can clouds entertain us? Creating slight variations of the cloudy day theme? That’s predictably unoriginal when, almost by definition, we're not good at predicting the weather. Looking at clouds from inside an aeroplane is great the first time, but it gets dull on the second ride. Imagine being stuck on a plane forever with nothing but clouds to look at. I say fuck clouds, and while we are at it, and if we get lucky, fuck rainbows.
And what’s with this harp shit? Do I have to take music lessons? What if I don’t want to? Can they kick me out of heaven and send me to hell, or even worse, back to earth?
Anyway, mister god, please hire the decorator who did hell. I mean, all this anally retentive stuff religions have people do throughout their lives and then it shovels them into this cheap motel with some clouds and a father for eternity. Most of us don’t even want to live with our own biological father, or the situational whoever, as the case may be. And eternity sounds like a harmless word, but eternity without variety is far more pernicious than a clear-cut exit.
Heaven's uninspiring. There would be, I'm quite certain, constant attention from gangs of nauseating religious asswipes, no television, and no internet porn. All that is enough to drive a grown man mad. Feminists would be pissed, as I only see shrivelled scrotal sacs with withered schlongs, not even loving men from what I see. And that’s not all. There's a chance I might have to board with the church people. The sort I can’t stand, even when they’re in their formals with their mouths shut.
I say fuck heaven, let me go to hell, or if I don’t have a choice, go back to earth. At least there's a smartphone and home delivery. Oh, and porn. I wouldn’t be alive without it. Also, I need high-speed internet for porn. It's really a must-have. I like it hardcore. You know, where the girl takes off one piece of clothing at a time and then takes you in her ass.
But I know hell has its share of problems too, mainly allegorically. One theme that seems common across all religions is fire. And there seems to be a lot of fire in hell. It’s a technical requirement. You've got to burn these sinners on the stake, or for lesser fouls, simmer them for eternity. Think about how much fuel would be needed. What would you make of hell if you believed we were causing global fucking warming and assumed hell existed somewhere on the planet?
Also common across most mainstream hells is a CEO character at the helm. Christians call him the devil. He has an amazing job. A bonafide psychopath, he gets paid to be this sick, sadistic pervert. A hefty perk, eternal post, no competitors, and god’s scared stiff because he is the democratic opposite and the balance of power. You wouldn't know what good is without a relative comparison with the bad, and hell is as bad as it gets. The devil is in the driver's seat. Sinners look at him and shit in their pants. Then he burns the motherfuckers, their shit, and their pants and then gets to laugh — "Ha, Ha, and fucking HA!" Hell’s motto is "eternal damnation" with no exit signs. Cool concept. I’d love to be the devil's assistant. It's the best job to aspire to in the whole supernatural universe, and this blog will be my resume.
Plunkity Plinkity Plunk
That's it, that's it, god eats my shit,
Sends me to hell, scratching his ball.
There I find startled back to my sense,
I wasn't dead after all.
Plink Plunk Plonk.
