I have already talked about how I’m going to hell, but since turning twenty-five,
my mother told me to grow up I’m all about making dramatic life changes in order to become a better person.
A few weeks ago I was at the gas station when a homeless woman came up to me and asked me for money so she could buy a coffee. I never carry cash, so I went in with her and used my debit card to get her a medium light and sweet.
The next day a man asked me for some money so he could buy a T pass. Again, I never carry cash, but I swiped him through the turnstile so he could catch the next train.
I don’t carry cash for a variety of reasons. One, I am too disorganized in my purse to ever hold on to any amount of money. Second, using credit cards gives the illusion that I’m not spending real money, so if I don’t see the cash physically disappear, it must still be in my bank account (this is completely rational thinking, by the way).
But not carrying cash in those two instances allowed me to do something good with my money. Now I know buying a coffee and a train ride aren’t the basis for getting into heaven, but I have to believe it’s a good start.
This whole path towards greatness got me thinking about what heaven must be like. And if I’m going to be in it, there definitely needs to be a few things to make my eternal stay in the afterlife a comfortable one. I made this list assuming bacon was already present, because frankly, excluding it would be preposterous.
Here is a list of the things that (absolutely) have to be in heaven:
You have to be outside of your mind if you don’t think that I will spend every night dreaming about nap time, and every day planning out when it’s happening.
Grapes on grapes on grapes. Wine for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Wine is water, and water is wine. I think the bible says that.
I can’t be in an eternal place of peace and serenity and not have unlimited access to selections from Taco Bell, Pizza Hut and KFC. KFC biscuits are a deity.
Aint nobody got time to wait in line in heaven. I can’t be dealing with traffic up in the sky when I want to go to Cloud Bar for a 7pm dinner reservation.
5. Jax Teller
I don’t understand why I would have to explain this one.
6. Baby Animals
Puppies will always be puppies, and baby pandas will be my pillows, and there will be a baby jungle full of baby lions, tigers, bears, OH MY! Basically heaven will be Neverland for animals.
No one has a bad day after playing on a trampoline. I will also miraculously be gifted the talent of being able to do gymnastics, so trampolines will have infinitely more applications in my afterlife.
8. Good Hair Days
There is no way I don’t wake up in heaven with perfect tendrils or tresses or curls, it’s just not possible. Hair always looks good in heaven. I think it’s because there’s no humidity or something. Don’t quote me on that.
In the vein of all things glorious, there are definitely a list of things that are, under no circumstances, allowed in heaven (with or without me).
1. The DMV
The DMV belongs in hell. Those people probably didn’t pay their parking tickets and have more of a use for it anyways. Heaven only lets in good drivers.
I’m going to fly with nine hundred water bottles and regular sized shampoos.
3. Push Button/Hand Sensor Faucets
Heaven trusts people to turn the faucet off when you’re done washing your hands. The people in hell deserve to have sensors tell them when they’ve hit their water quota.
I’ve lived too long with a dairy allergy. I reserve the right to gorge my face with cheese and ice cream, or cheese-flavored-ice cream in heaven. Food allergies are going to hell. BE GONE.