There’s nothing to do in Denver when you’re dead. Because you’re dead, remember?
Look at what your atheism’s brought you, my son. Repent! Repent!
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Recent Comments
- In The Mailbox: 02.28.23 (Afternoon Edition) : The Other McCain on Hey, longtime pw readers…
- In The Mailbox: 12.23.22 : The Other McCain on Patrick J. Carroll truly IS a sad, embittered psychopath
- Danger on Patrick J. Carroll might be a psychopath
- Danger on Patrick J. Carroll might be a psychopath
- In The Mailbox: 07.18.22 : The Other McCain on Patrick J. Carroll might be a psychopath
Couldn’t you just kind of, oh, I don’t know, sit around and start to decompose a bit? You know how it goes, the skin marbles, the abdomen swells from the gases of bacteria digesting your gastrointestinal tracts, and maybe – if you’re lucky (or not so), you pop open.
Mmm, speaking of exploding guts, we’re off to lunch!
Yeah, but see, “you” aren’t doing any of that stuff. Outside (and inside) forces are acting upon what remains of your material person.
Wait, outside forces…? Hmmm….