Does Heaven Have An Open Bar?

Dichotomy City.

Dichotomy City.

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:

1. Naps

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.

2. Wine

Grapes on grapes on grapes.  Wine for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Wine is water, and water is wine. I think the bible says that.

3. Buffets

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.

4. Teleports

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.

7. Trampolines

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.

2. Airport Security

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.

4. Food Allergies

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.


Well, I’m Going to Hell.

I’ll be the first to admit that I am not the most angelic person on the planet.

I don’t always wear my seatbelt, I eat dessert before dinner, and I’ve been known to throw out a curse word or two in a moment of frustration.  While not deplorable, those kinds of antics are most certainly not getting me any closer to the golden gates, if you will.

A while back, I did one good deed and immediately assumed it erases all the bad stuff I did before and after, so I wrote a wish list I’d like to have for my afterlife, you know, cause I’m going to heaven and stuff.

As much as I try to be a good person, sometimes the bad just slips through the cracks.  I can’t always pretend that I enjoy watching movies with Kristen Stewart in them, or tell the truth when my parents ask me if I have eaten any vegetables at all this week.

I know, I need to make some changes.

I have to believe heaven is just the best place ever to exist.  Just naps all day, wine all night, and just a non-stop party with all your friends and family members.

I also have to believe that hell is the absolute worst place to ever exist.  I am NOT trying to go there, but I have been put in some situations on this earth, and they have changed me to the point where I am henceforth making an honest effort to be so good that they won’t even ask me questions about myself when I try and enter like they do when I attempt to sneak a full sized shampoo bottles through airport security.

I fully believe the following are accurate events on Hell’s calendar:


There are no sunny days in hell.  Just constant mist in your face.  You don’t get a raincoat or an umbrella.  But in reality those things never help anyways.  You’ll get gently pelted with moisture for your eternal afterlife and never be able to protect yourself.


All you want to do is get up and have a relaxing day on your couch, maybe watch some netflix and eat some takeout.  No. You will be forced to get up at 6am with the rest of Hell’s legion and told to wait in line for seven of the eight hours of freedom you have for the day. Once there is a glimmer of hope and you’re the next in line to go to the counter, they will say that it’s closing time and you have to do it all over again tomorrow.

Traffic Jams:

You’ll be having a bad day, because it’s hell, and you’ll want to get in your car and take a mindless drive to release some stress.  Only you can’t because everywhere you go there will be stop and go traffic.  You will never get to drive freely on the open road blasting music like you would in heaven.

And for those who were really big assholes on planet earth, you get stick shifts.  Have fun with that, bucko.

Push-Button Faucets:

Washing your hands seems like a basic task.  Not when you have the bathroom army determining how much water you’re allotted at your sink interval.  You’ll always have leftover soap, and never enough water to wash it off.  Soap hands for life.

Group Text Messages:

You’ll have one response to the initial message, but you’ll never be able to silence the eight other people in the chat who have ignored or forgotten you’re in the group text and have gone on to have a riveting conversation about cat pregnancies and plaid button-up shirts.

An Almost Loaded Website:

All you want to do is check your email.  And you’ll forever be waiting to do it.

That Person You Can Never Pass:

You’ll want to walk to the grocery store – which in hell, is Trader Joes on a Sunday – and there will be that person in front of you walking at a glacial pace, taking up the entire sidewalk.  You will never be able to pass them.  Just destined for a life of following in the footsteps of the slowest human being on the planet, which is ironically the worker who called out of the DMV that morning and is the sole reason as to why they are short staffed and horrible.

Constantly Trying to Assemble Ikea Furniture:

After your seven hour stint at the DMV get ready to come home and assemble IKEA furniture!  No directions, just rudimentary sketches that don’t pertain to anything.  You’ll always slam your finger, and there will never be enough screws.  God bless.

Be good, folks.  This hellish life aint for you.  I know it’s not for me.  I’m going to find the nearest church and confess all my sins now, see you in a couple years.  It’s a long list.