Have you read Mitch Albom's The Five People You Meet in Heaven? Neither have I. I'd rather read my own obituary than crack open this steaming pile of maudlin manure. I am, however, going to make fun of it. I now give you The Five People You Meet in Hell.1. Your least favorite great-uncle. Remember the old bastard who'd tease you relentlessly and smelled like a lethal combo of B.O., cheap whiskey, and rancid luncheon meats? Remember how he could say anything to you but when you told him to get in his Model-T and drive back to Senile City you got in trouble? You'll see him in hell. He'll smell even worse dead.
2. Your middle-school P.E. teacher. Not long after you realize you didn't make it to your heavenly reward, you'll notice a guy sporting a cheesy porn moustache and think you've seen him somewhere before. When he bends down and his wrinkled, hairy nutbag protrudes from his short-shorts, you'll immediately flashback to 7th grade and a gym insulated with exposed asbestos. Then he'll yell "Dodgeball!" and throw a human skull at your face.
If you had a female gym teacher, it'll be the same only her nuts will be hairier.
3. The creepy, unemployed guy who bought you booze when you were twelve. If you were a guy, he charged you ten dollars for a six pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon. If you were a girl, I shudder to think of the price you paid.
4. The first significant other to rip out your heart just for the sport of it. It could have been an easy break; both of you wanted out. But she just had to tell you she faked every orgasm except the ones your dad gave her. He just had to tell you that yes, all of your dresses make you look fat because your ass resembles a two-car garage. The comments were mean and unnecessary, and you'll be able to relive them for ever and ever.
5. The person ahead of you at the Department of Motor Vehicles. You were at the DMV for five hours and the end seemed near; second in line! But then something happened: An old man tried to use his casino values card as proof of I.D.; a lady spoke a language only known by five other people on earth; a man attempted to convert the clerk to Scientology. That person will be in front of you in every line you stand in for all eternity. Enjoy!
19 Comments:
My best friend recently ended an unpleasant exchange with a DMV employee by saying, "I hope you have a really terrible day."
She and I will both be in hell, we should all meet for cocktails.
I did'nt even make it past #2, I was laughing so hard. Ok, gonna go finish up.
ms. pants,
the cocktails in hell with no doubt be non-alcoholic, but at least the conversation will be good.
mollyn.,
remind me to stay on your good side.
dena,
you will always be my blog hero. Can we agree to be each other's bitches?
evil,
mitch is a sportswriter, which makes his wussiness all the more perplexing.
As much as I enjoyed Mitch Albom's book...I would enjoy yours so much more ;).
Brilliance.
Sigh.
My middle school PE teacher always wore white shirts with BIG yellow pit-stains! and she made us learn a basketball routine to a Diana Ross song that went:
Round and Round
boy, you turn me
upside down ...
blah, blah, blah.
The irony is that I think that song is about a chic who's f*cking some playa-guy who cheats on her, while I went to a middle school at a small private catholic school! ha! We were dribbling and practicing b-ball drills to that song!
i really liked that book, it made me not only cry, but bawl...i mean i was completely sobbing by the end. then i saw the movie, and altho it sucked, i cried like a baby during it too. i would read your version, but i could never love it, like i love the original...
Although, worse would be seeing our Health Ed teacher who liked to scratch his balls while teaching the sex part.
I think I'll go to church Sunday.
Oh man, #2 brings back such horrible memories....shudder.
Still lovin' you though!
You really did have a sad childhood.
At a close #6 is the dentist who groped you will you were "visiting the peppermint forest" of unconsciousness.
pusboy,
thanks. I'm grasping at straws sometimes.
blonde,
if I ever write a book I want you to organize the book tour. I want a party in every city, babe.
jj,
I am humbled.
carson,
Bon Scott once sang, "Hell ain't a bad place to be" and a year later he choked to death on his own vomit.
milfster,
I don't think you're going to hell. We'll miss you.
mo,
Damn, they didn't play disco during gym at my school. I got gypped.
randi,
now how do you know you wouldn't love my fake book if you haven't read it?
heather,
it's all about the visuals.
rachel,
I like my readers to experience a plethora of emotions. I'm still lovin' you, too.
brooke,
Yeah, and the childhood has been the highlight so far.
ms. hellion,
I don't go under for dental work. I take about thirty novicane shots.
I absolutely LOVE Albom as a sports writer. If you read him regularly though, you know that he has a penchant for mushy, emotional, hear-wrenching stories wrapped in the cloak of a sports jersey.
Awesome writer... him not you.
OK, you too.
I love you, I really do.
Your writing, I mean, just so you don't get any ideas...
hen he bends down and his wrinkled, hairy nutbag protrudes from his short-shorts
I'm sooo not going to hell.
real,
oh darn, I was hoping you were actually in love with me. I was going to hop on a plane and fly to...uh, wherever you live so we could consumate our relationship.
monkey,
I'm glad I could inspire you to live a righteous life.
Tempting, really.
But don't you think you're a little young for me? I mean you do eat in a high chair, for Godess' sake!
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