Oh no.
I thought the whole "three hours to live" thing (#10 in the preceding entry) was just a joke, but apparently it wasn't. So here I am. Like, dead and all. Great. This is wonderful. Fucking wonderful!!!
And no, I don't mean the actual place itself. It's absolutely nothing like the place where Albert Brooks wound up in Defending Your Life. It's not pretty, you can't eat everything in sight and not gain weight, and for the life of me I can't find Rip Torn OR Meryl Streep anywhere. In fact, it looks entirely too much like 14th Street, around Sixth Avenue. I'm not too thrilled.
So here I am stuck in this strange place that I can make neither heads nor tails of, and I don't know what to do. Because I only had three hours, I didn't really have time to make anything, and by the time I made up my mind to just go down to the Lower East Side for chocolate macaroons, rugelach, a few black-and-white cookies, and some hamentaschen (poppyseed and prune), I only had 45 minutes left before the Big Moment, and I still hadn't decided on what to wear. So I had nothing to bring. Rude, I know, but wouldn't it have been ruder to show up at death's door wearing something pedestrian, such as jeans and a turtleneck?
As it turned out, I found something appropriate in my closet, which was a godsend, given that I was not in the mood for shopping. I wore a black Armani pantsuit (Chinese-inspired jacket and slim, flowing pants), black boots (I'm sorry, but I couldn't do the "sensible shoe" thing, even though I suspected I'd be doing a lot of walking where I was going). All in all, a very elegant ensemble that travelled well but didn't look too casual.
So now here I am, waiting in what looks like a diner to meet my so-called "maker". And somewhere along the way I wound up with an aluminum foil-covered 13x9 Pyrex dish full of warm apple-raisin kugel and a note from my darling Bubby welcoming me.
I'll keep you posted. Someone just came in and is being led to my table.
Wish me luck!
fresh-baked at 03:09 PMSo, we had the weblog, and the warblog, and now we have the wasblog! Congratulations on this new innovation!
Offered by: tim on November 7, 2002 3:11 PMDo we need to call in Tangina? I have a tennis ball and some rope.
Offered by: jhames on November 7, 2002 2:33 PMThis message is for the owner/creator of this website and the owner creator only. Please post your appropriate response according to our previously discussed arrangement. Please do not direct your reply to any of the other postees.
The message we have for you is:
NIPPLE.
Thank you.
Offered by: the joanne worley fan club on November 7, 2002 2:25 PM(Sung to the tune of "Abracadabra" by The Steve Miller Band)
Late last night, I just cried;
I found that Jodi died.
I knew that without her, I wasn't a man,
So I came up with a clever plan.
I snuck in, as quiet as could be;
I took her body from the mortuary.
Now don't get angry, don't get irate.
But Jodi and I finally had our date.
I had, I had to have her;
And so I had her cadaver...
I had, I had to have her;
And so I had her cadaver...
if you meet death please send me an e-mail describing his features. i have a theory that death looks exactly like bob barker, since that man has lived for 234 years without aging a day. i could be wrong...
Offered by: alex kidd on November 7, 2002 12:38 PMI'm not so crazy about the death storyline. I mean really where can this go...except with perhaps a guest role by someone like Gene Rayburn or the guy from FISH (alright he's not dead but most everyone thinks he is). What's next? Are we all going to walk into the bathroom the next morning to find Jodi showering and fully healthy and that the whole last couple of months we've been dreaming. I don't buy it. Actually I think the afterlife Jodi is Jodi's twin...someone that we've probably not heard about before but will soon.
Alright I'm just in this for the heaven probe (is that anything like an alien probe)?
What sort of stuff is available on the menu up there?
Offered by: Pete on November 7, 2002 2:34 AM"I'm gonna make-a you nine pies."
By the way, the Care Bears scare me.
Offered by: Miss Elle on November 7, 2002 1:29 AMWhile you're up in Heaven, can check whether or not the Care Bears really DO live in the clouds? I'm scared it's just another one of Hollywood's exaggerations?
Offered by: leo on November 6, 2002 11:34 PMUh....okay. Say hello to my family for me. Thanks
Offered by: Joan on November 6, 2002 10:13 PMHey, while you're there, ask Tupac if it really was Biggie.
Offered by: aaron on November 6, 2002 7:44 PMI am very sorry to hear about your passing. This news, in combination with virtually all other news I have received in the last seventeen hours, has taking a bit of the kitty wind out of my prancing sails. Although I resolve to be no less prancey (a resolution that reflects nothing more than the inescapable fate of my current kittiness), my prancing will undoubtedly be of a somewhat less joyous nature. The sun continues to shine, but emits no warmth, and as I prance, I shiver with the darkness of night.
meow
Offered by: Prance for me on November 6, 2002 5:38 PMI'm going to *sniff* miss her. I'll miss her widdle pumpkin head, the way she could string words together into coherent sentences....
Offered by: Jody on November 6, 2002 4:05 PMThat fashion description said it all. Even as a dead person, you're fabulous. Oh how I wish I could pay just a short visit to that side with you. I could meet your Bubby, put on a pot of coffee and share a little kugel and wisdom of life.
Enjoy the journey, give our love to Bubby and come back soon. Even though once you do get back, you will discover that Reality Bites.
Oooh! Speaking of which, did you hear about Winona?
Offered by: Nancy on November 6, 2002 3:44 PM
