The fedex guy threw my package full of priceless fingerbones of various saints and apostles over the fence into a big puddle because he couldnt figure out how to use the front gate. This is the tenth or eleventh time this has happened now.
genuinely have not survived a single platonic relationship dissolution ive been through its just that the death hasnt caught up with me yet but one day on a lonely august afternoon it will
Hang on, be there in a minute, the guy from the creationist propaganda booth went over to listen intently to the people from Socialist Alternative and I have to see if this turns into a fight or the birth of a new and exciting quadrant of the political compass
When you die, whatever god you meet - they have a sparrow's face and haven't given a name - won't ask how you how money you earned. He won't ask how many people you helped either. God just stares at everyone and asks them how many packs of Crazy Bones they bought. He did this for millennia before Crazy Bones were invented, and never asks any follow up. It doesn't appear to have any influence on what afterlife you go to either, so we don't really know why God asks this, except maybe God can see everything but Crazy Bones and has to ask?