Jingle All the Way... To Hell

So I was riding this one train the other day. While I'm walking out of the station, humming to myself nonchalantly, I notice this middle-aged guy with a crew cut and a Hitler 'stache trailing me from a distance. I sneak a glance over my shoulder and just before he takes cover behind a pillar, I see that he's wearing these ridiculous horn-rimmed John Lennon sunglasses and I'm like, oh gosh, the Jackal is after me. As I intiated evasive manuevers, I realized that if I didn't have an unnatural love for Sidney Poitier movies, the Jackal would have undoubtedly offed me and I would have died while humming "The Bedding Experts, where--" BAM. Bullet in the brain.


Think: how many minutes of your free time are spent singing commercial jingles to yourself? Really think about it hard. I'm afraid that many (read: all) of you will find that this surreptitious singing goes on in the brain in much that same way that the process of determining that you'll never be friends with someone based solely on looking at them for two seconds does. You don't even realize your brain is working at the time, but its actually doing very important things back there without your permission. Think about this next time you're craving some baby back ribs. There's a reason.

Now think: how sad would it be to die singing a commercial jingle? If they showed the killcams of regular human deaths at funerals, like I clearly believe they should, how embarrassed would your family be? "Jimmy died doing what he loved... whispering 'at the Red House.'"

This isn't the only problem with dying in the middle of singing a commercial jingle. You would NEVER know the end to that song. You think they have commercials in Heaven!? TV there is like On Demand for every show ever made. They don't have commercials. First of all, you would never need a magical chammois or a colon cleanser or one of those blenders that can chop up cell phones. You're in Heaven with a capital H. And even if you did want one, just for sentimental value, you could just say "I want 46 Snuggies" and you'd have forty six Snuggies in your lap, stat. Fuck commercials, that's why you repented. IT WAS WORTH IT.

And don't think that you can just wish to know the end to the jingle and it'll be granted. God has standards, people. He must protect his house! Dying without finishing a jingle is akin to being waterboarded for all eternity. How long can you exist with the ending to that commerical on the tip of your tongue? Don't think there's an easy button, either. You can't commit suicide once you're dead. You're stuck with that shit for the rest of existence.

BTW, it's "where dreams come truuuuuuuue!"

Yours in Christ,
Mike