The day I went to heaven was possibly one
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The day I went to heaven was possibly one of the best days of my life (life?). God was pretty swell, and not having to piss was good, but the best thing was
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the day I met Harvey, a demon in disguise. He wore a fedora to cover his horns, and some chicken feathers duct-taped to his back. Not a very convincing angel, but
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I had never seen one before. What the heck did I know? To me, he was an angel. He held my hand and pointed at the burlesque house across the street. I didn't know
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what I would find inside, but why worry? If you can't trust an angel, who can you trust? And with that, I walked towards the house, in all it's burlesque glory. I knocked on the
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door while humming the song "Knocking On Heaven's Door" which seem rather appropriate. The door flung open and standing there was the ugliest woman I have ever seen in my life.
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"The fates see death in your face!" the crone wheezed. I tried to point to the "No Solicitors" sign but she pushed me back into the hallway. "You shall see!" she croaked.
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Instantly, my penis turned to black, fibrous ash and fell out of my pant-legs -- both at the same time. In a panic, I returned to my office and drank scotch whisky on the job.
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The edge off, I returned to the sanitarium. Looking at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror I repeated, "I will not be controlled by my nightmares." On the sink's edge I spied the
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razor blade, and suddenly it all came rushing back to me. The meth, the cats, the Ferrari, Linda ... oh god. What had I done? I staggered backwards, dropping the bottle.
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The Aquafina spilled everywhere. "Oh no!" I shrieked. I grabbed some paper towels and cleaned up the mess. OCD sure is a great way to take one's mind off things... like Linda.
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- Started
- 2011-04-21 14:41:14
- Finished
- 2011-04-24 01:23:43
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