This probably qualifies as a seasonal post that's, well, out of season. But frankly, there's so much trashy Christmas merchandise on the shelves that I could probably run a whole year's worth of blogs on that topic alone, so I'm throwing one in anyway.
Today's terror presents a bit of an existential dilemma. I mean, heaven is supposed to be paradise -- a place of beauty and glory and perfection and eternity, right? And there are angels there, right? So theoretically, angels should be beautiful and glorious and perfect and eternal... yes?
Well, whenever it's my time to go, I sincerely hope that I don't end up in any afterlife where God's operations staff look like this:
|They got the part about six wings right, but not the part about covering the feet and face. Which is kind of a shame, all things considered.|
What's even scarier than granny-angel's shocking (and aged) appearance is the fact that she's apparently being held up for her angelic pocket change, because the last person I saw reach for the sky that dramatically was Don Knotts.