Turns out one of ’em is Acidman, who had the following advice for me:
1) “Don’t be such a bloodless cunt.”
2) “Wear more red toenail polish.”
3) “I spilled more racism than Robert Stacy McCain ever drank.”
So I was all, like, “sure, I’ll take the advice. But are you positive he’s my spirit guide? ‘Cause I think there may have been some kind of mistake.”
They’re checking on up the ladder.
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
I just hope it’s not down the ladder.
Sort of a borderline case, there–that’s why I take the Roman Catholic prerogative, and believe in limbo, purgatory, and similar get-out-of-jail-free cards: I believe there’s grace that works on a level beyond our comprehension.
[Gregory’s going to drop by and school me, I’ll bet. And I know what the doctrines are, but . . . all theology is “looking through a glass, darkly.”]
Indeed.