Listening to Happy Potatoes
I'm listening to happy potatoes singing their lovely songs.
It's pumping emotion in to a brain.
But let's put that aside for a moment and think of this:
If it's true that dead people turn in to angels, there must be a lot of angels up there above our heads.
The sky is probably packed with angels.
What do they do for eternity?
If they're pressed against each other, tanning must be difficult. Unless they only get the tops of their heads tanned.
Maybe angels have an eternal rave, and dirty dance with each other forever. Paradise? But then, wouldn't there be some (many?) awkward angels who don't have any other angels to dance with? Who sit in some obscure corner of the sky, staring at their transparent feet?
Maybe they all have a group hug forever. But what happens when they need to use the bathroom?
So next time you feel like life is drowning you in challenges and complications. Next time you feel like you're having trouble staying afloat, think of this: you might actually be up to your neck in transparent angel piss.
Are we living our lives while wading through the waste products of our ancestors?
Or do angels exist at all? Is there really nothing but air up there?
Either way, enjoy potatoes.