I’m aware I have had certain advantages in life. Not every boy gets to grow up knowing his dad was both an astronaut AND an arctic explorer. My grandmother says it’s a pity my dad had to go into hiding when the lizard people from Rigel VI surreptitiously took control of all the world’s major governments, because I’d have really liked him.
If it weren’t for women I don’t reckon men would bother with Fathers Day. And the concept of birthdays doesn’t make sense to us either. “HE knows it’s the annivesary of his birth: why do WE have to remind him?” Also - cutlery wouldn't exist without women. We'd still have can-openers though. We’d have racks of really, really expensive can-openers hanging proudly on our walls.
As an enlightened sort of bloke I often feel a heavy weight of responsibility to help my fellow man understand that Romance topic that women like to yap about. Fellas, try to share half the pizza with her, alright? And remember, romance doesn't cost much when there are free wrongcards to send, or even just fresh flower bouquets laying about unattended near new graves. Here to help.
On Wednesdays I typically post an older card, and then get to work setting up Zombie Preparedness Drills. Drive over to the cemetery at 4am with a shovel and now you've got the day's props. Next it's a matter of arranging bodies where people don't expect to see them. Like kindergartens. Sure the parents throw fits but for me civic duty comes first.
Sometimes I know I have erred. I'll be surrounded by security guards, plastic zip-ties around my wrists, and my grandmother will be explaining 'me' to them over the phone. I have learned, for instance, that banks are not optimum places to play paint ball (though I still think we'd all appreciate some signage). Point? When in error, I apologize. Apologies are how I start the next game...
I'm one of the unlucky few who didn't receive any religious instruction as a kid, so I can't speak with any conviction about who goes to hell and who doesn't. So I just assume that hell is filled with people pointing at each other and saying they are going to hell. If I've learned anything from refusing to believe anything people say it is probably this: that heaven is for the heterodox.
I got invited to attend a childbirth once. Then I said a couple of things that got me swiftly uninvited. Of course - they were a bit weird but it occurs to me that many would go along just to be nice. I'm looking at you, Twenty-First Century Husbands. When Baby Miracle arrives you're supposed to be in a bar across the street. Smoking. And swigging brandy. Where did we go so wrong?
Some days it's not all that apparent to me why I'm not on a beach somewhere. People should be handing me beverages and offers to relax me in fresh, imaginative ways. Some days I wonder if I took a wrong turn when I decided to base my career on the principle of being honest.
When they call my number at the Pearly Gates I expect my entry to be a shoe-in. This is not because I have led a conspicuously virtuous life but because of the disconcertingly high body count I have racked up killing demons in video-games. Also nazis, while I'm thinking about it. I've probably murdered half a bazillion symbolic demons and nazis - how is that not better than prayer?
Look - I'm not saying I don't have issues but when I showed today's card to the guy who delivers my mail he embraced me, burst into tears and declared himself 'expressed'. I showed it to the guy in Starbucks and he grasped my hand firmly, called me brother and announced my lattes would be free forever or his life would be forfeit. It's not all that bad being a spiritual leader some days.
