small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table

Friday, January 24

I was lookin over the website when I realized that I've writing shit on the web since August of 2000. That's a long time for an old boozy dreck such as myself. So I thought I'd put up the first thing I ever wrote that went out to the stinkin masses. I'd gotten a letter that was passed down from a bunch of intellectual types on what they thought Hell consisted of, and this is my reply.

What a crock of shit! It always amazes me how everyone thinks they have the right idea on what Hell is all about. I pondered on if I should answer this in jest or in truth. I’ll leave it for you to figure out. Hell is neither hot nor cold. Hell is not down there, nor is Hell over there. Hell is a lot closer then you think. Some people are in Hell for years before they figure it out, and even then they’re not sure. Some folks even enjoy the concept that they are in Hell. There is no Heaven just various levels of Hell. There is no God or Satan, just an absentee landlord. The all night laundry is open but no one’s working the counter. The guy walking down the street talking to himself? Who in Hell do you think he’s talking too? You think he’s going through Hell, no, he’s fucking happy; he’s having a good time. To him Hell is a soft seat at the free lunch counter. Think I’m bullshitting you? Step in front of one of these guy’s, and they’ll give you the most annoyed or puzzled look, and you know why! You just took them out of the loop. You put them on hold! You’re like bad call waiting! Bad move on your part. Hell is listening to me rant! Hell is watching happy people and trying to figure out just what in the Hell they are so goddamn happy about! Hell is the women sitting next to me at the lunch counter and moving her purse because she thinks I’m gonna grab the damn thing. Hell is me grabbing her instead! Hell is some asshole stepping in front of me interrupting my damn conversation! It doesn’t matter who I’m talkin too, it matters that you stopped me from enjoying myself! Do you realize how long it’s gonna take me to get back on? Do you?

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