The thing that scares me is – if there is a Pearly Gates, what’s the bet that it’s like a visa office? You think you have an appointment with Death. You show up all punctual. There are 13,784 auntyjis and unclejis in front of you. You stand in line for hours. Finally you get to the counter and it turns out that the document your recording angel gave you is a fax and they need to see the original. You’re going to Hell. Sorry. Next.
Since its 6/6/6, Falstaff wonders about the afterlife.
Comments
2 comments. Leave your comment »
Ravi Kalaga
Jun 7th, 2006 at 8:46 pm | #
Hey ppl, the link’s not working!
Patrix
Jun 7th, 2006 at 10:02 pm | #
fixed.