Sunday, May 22, 2011

Hellooooo! Is There Anybody Out There?

I guess it's the size of this place that makes it so hard to find my friends.  I'm not even sure who's here with me - I've really seen very few people so far...not even Reverend Harold Camping, who I kinda thought would be leading the parade.

Of course, I've only been here a little over twenty four hours, and I don't really know my way around yet.  It took a good hour for St. Peter to find my name in THE BOOK.  I mean, seriously, wouldn't you think they'd have developed some sort of index file by now?   The little angel who lead me to my cloud whispered that St. Peter has been lobbying for a computerized system for years, but rumor has it that the Council of Angels won't appropriate funds for the front gate until Pete stops letting in reprobates like me.

That certainly put me in my place.

I was chastised right away for bringing my own laptop.  I don't know why it was such a big deal - there was this older couple ahead of me in line with two trunks, five rolling suitcases, and an overnighter, like Mr. and Mrs. Howell on Gilligan's Island.  St. Peter just rang for a bellhop angel and let them pass.

Then there was the woman behind me who was so worried about her little poodle.  She entrusted his care to a man who was a self-proclaimed atheist and therefore knew he would not be taking the highway to Heaven on May 21.  This guy charged her over $100 to care for her little darling forever, but now she's worried he'll back out of the deal.  "I didn't want to trust an atheist, but what other choice did I have?" she worried.

Ah well, I'm settled in now on Cloud # 6009956200CM.  I have no idea what that all means, but that's my new address.  It's nice - sparsely furnished, but soft and clean, and with a fantastic view.  Last night my sector went to a harp concert, and tomorrow there's supposed to be a choir.  I've been invited to tryouts.

The internet service up here SUCKS.  Dial up.  Can you imagine?

I must go now.  My little angel dropped by to say I have a fitting for my first wings in 20 minutes, and I have no idea where the tailor shop is located.  If I see Reverend Camping, I'll let y'all know he's safe and sound.

And hey, if any of y'all are up here, too, email me your new cloud address and we'll do lunch!

TaTa for now!


Fred and Ethel Go to Disneyworld


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