A Conversation Between Angels 6

“Is it safe here?”
“Yeah I got out of the crossfire.”
“With all the happiness and bliss up here, you wouldn’t think they’d get so upset over some news from Earth.”
“I know and God isn’t even mad.”
“Yeah it’s all the rest that couldn’t even get a book published.”
“Exactly. God doesn’t get mad at the Jews for thinking his Son is false and most parents put their children before themselves.”
“And He’s not mad they’re calling it the God particle.”
“No, I overheard him tell Moses that however people see existence that makes them comfortable with life was ok with Him. Then Moses just went on a rant about having to carry the Ten Commandments and why couldn’t he have invented the iPad sooner.”
“Yeah and some guy was saying it was because the Pope was German and he was probably related to Einstein.”
“Oh man that’s one guy who’s celebrating. I saw him and Buddha and they’ve been drunk for three days laughing their asses off.”

Mirror, Mirror

I want one of those mirrors where a comb over looks good.

I want one of those mirrors where having cottage cheese thighs and wearing short shorts looks hot.

I want one of those mirrors where wearing a t-shirt that says “I’m with Stupid” is still funny.

I want one of those mirrors where applying make up so that the color on the face is different from the color on the neck makes me not look like a clown.

I want one of those mirrors where wearing a muscle-T after 50 looks awesome.

I want one of those mirrors where lots of sparkles and fake gems on t-shirts makes me look wealthy and regal.

I want one of those mirrors like Richard Simmons has that says, “yeah that tank top and striped shorts looks great, no one’s making me into a caricature of my former self.”

I want one of those mirrors that only shows the plastic surgery so I don’t see the rest of my wrinkled, decaying body and the illusion seems worth all the money.

Truth be told, I admire all those people. Because I’m too self-conscious and sometimes wish I wouldn’t get so nukey (it’s a word-my word) about a little fat and could let it all hang out at the gym. My hat off to you! Oh wait, I don’t like being bald, the hat covers that up. At least in the mirror.