Hey guys, Jesus here. Tomorrow's the big day! Rapture! So psyched! First of all, not all of you are coming. Eek. Sorry bout that. It's really just a matter of space. Movies for some reason have depicted heaven as this endless cloud terrain, with room for everyone. Nope. It's actually about the size of a Best Western, which by the way, you'll all be staying at on the way. Have to make a pit-stop in Briarcliff to visit a friend from college, who when I mentioned I'd be on earth for a day was like "oh you should swing by while you're in town."
Anyway, here are a few things you should know.
1. I Haven't Finalized the List Yet, So Everybody Should Be Living It Up
Okay, so I kind of dropped the ball on deciding who's coming. The date just sort of crept up on me. I know, I know, what's the point of even having a Google Cal if I'm not gonna check it. What I'm getting at is that all bets are off right now. I could easily forget someone that totally deserves to ascend to heaven. So live it up! If you're a family man who wants to spend his time with his children, you should do that - especially since I CAN'T STAND kids and will only bring a select few. If you love fishing, fish. If you've got a couch cushion fetish, which I totally get, go fuck some couch cushions. Who am I to judge? JK.
2. Heaven Doesn't Have Three-Pronged Outlets
Sorry again, guys, but when I designed the place, I didn't really account for the types of electronics we'd have now. We can totes stop at Radio Shack along the way. Also while there we can make sure all of their employees know we're not saving them. Fuck 'em, right? It's their own fault for not being Christian... and selling the best products 2003 had to offer.
3. It Gets Really F--king Hot Up There, So Be Comfortable Showing Some Skin
Again, chalk this up to a lack of foresight on my behalf when planning heaven. Though honestly, the sun wasn't as hot back then. If anything it's your fault and global warming (which is absolutely happening, by the way) has caused that place to be a sauna. I mean, we're like four miles from the sun. It's a dry heat, yes, but an oppressive, often deadly, dry heat.
Anyway, what this means is that I'll probably only bring people that are in decent shape - folks who I can stand to look at while we cruise around the clouds in our tank tops. So I know this excludes 99% of the people who filled the streets and subways over the last few weeks holding signs, warning others about the apocalypse. Sorry about that, guys. In my defense, I did organize that sweet bonding outing at Dave and Busters. The same Dave and Busters where you mouth-breathers stuffed your faces with jalapeno poppers, which ironically is why you won't be coming to heaven.
4. This is specifically for Kirk Cameron
You have one day to tone it down. ONE. Then maybe I'll consider bringing you. And if I do, you are prohibited from mentioning the following:
-The time you unplugged Stephen Hawking's voicebox. Why can't you understand it was a "had to be there" type of moment? -That you've seen Alan Thicke naked -That I'm really doing myself a disservice by not watching The Left Behind series. I'll watch it when I watch it, Kirk.
5. Everybody Who's Getting Raptured Gets to Bring a Friend
See? There's some good that can come of this. (Plus, that adorbz picture to the left will be in everyone's cloud when we check in.) But just know that I have to approve the friend. It has to be someone that I can see myself being friends with independently. I mean, I'm creating a society that will last for eternity, so I'll want people I will look forward to spending time with. Anyway, here's what I look for in a friend: Hot girls with speech impediments that have lowered their self-esteem and are thus grateful that I'm showing them attention.
6. Don't Look God in the Eye When Talking to Him
Seriously. Heaven essentially is God's power trip and we'll all be a lot happier if we play by his rules. Them's the breaks.