Can't get to heaven on the monorail (thanks to American Dream ). The whole idea of living this life in a way so you can get to heaven comes from unexamined fear when I was kid. The fear of being bad and being punished into hell was more than a little projection on my part that my Dad was making me angry because that mirrored my questions I had about him. If I'm good - OK if I'm bad, uh-oh here comes the devil. So fast forward to thinking as an adult and it doesn't matter how you get to heaven 'cause I'm already there. The one great thing about not spending alot of time around people with imaginary derangement syndrome (devil reincarnate, etc.) is you get to spend more time with your own imaginations. It comes on involuntarily. Watching a Father Knows Best (no, seriously) Babs needs $250 to keep her old friend's cafe from being taken over so she begs her dad to deliver the bad news. Me? I'm jogging away on the Gazelle and first thought was to tell dad she'd have to blow every guy in the joint unless he could give her the $250. That's wrong, I know that but it cultivates my neuro-network so that I can fill these needed voids with dazzling gems like:

To Do List (WORLDVIEW) ==================

Defriend Darkness
Wrap protrusions w/ turkish towel
Stand by your xylophone
Strum your pain with golgotha
Beam me up, Beckham
Never evacuate where you do-see-do
Act up and you're divining for pine oil
Let go of your cerbian place-settings
Empty the ashtrays in your club coupe
Adjust all strokes by the number
Stop defacing password protected destinations
Only lift until the bottoms show
Listen to the rhythm of peewee's uh-huh
Call your momma if she's there
Fax whenever they request parameters
Lick but never accentuate
Walk away when the dial tone disappears
Yellow is mellow