Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been … well, actually, since I’m neither Catholic nor a fink, I’ve never confessed. Ever. You want to pin something on me, you better have three eyeball witnesses, videotape and my prints on whatever.
But I digress.
So I’m in this Bibleburg record-and-video store, which shall remain nameless — hey, I told you, I’m no stool pigeon, OK? — and I’m browsing the stacks, trying to find something to watch in the absence of Herself, who is living la vida loca with a girlfriend in Santa Fe whilst I ride herd on the menagerie and rassle various velo-gators for bicycle magazines.
Anyway, I’m scanning the science-fiction section and what do I come across? “The Ten Commandments.” As in the Cecil B. DeMille classic about Moses leading the Israelites out of bondage in Egypt. The Ten Fuckin’ Commandments. In the science-fiction section.
So, Father, what I want to know is this:
Am I going to Hell for laughing my ass off?
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