Hopping

into Heaven.

No that is not a typo. While I have long suspected a worm, trojan or other nepharious hackery making the editing in this five times more difficult because letters are changed after they are typed mysteriously, the "hopping" in the title is not a misprint. I mean Hopping Into Heaven.

Because I just read about that Gabor beauty losing her leg to a clot at over age 90 something.
Spare me please. If I am over 90 and I have a clot-let God unwind it, don't take my leg off please. Of course, I don't know about all the medical necessity of her ailment but it strikes me that if you are 90 - you don't need to go out with one leg. Eventually if Heaven is as great as they all say, it's wierder to hang on to earth crawling on one leg.

I visited in Rome across the Street from the Planet Holywood Rome (yes they have one there!) the Franciscan Cappuchin monestary where they have all the bones of deceased Franciscans displayed into floral arrangements along the walls in intricate wallpaper type designs-only they are the real bones of hundreds of dead Franciscan monks. It was truly eerie. I said to myself "well, you fellas made it about a thousand times harder for God to put you together on the Resurrection Day."

Can someone explain to me why people like to delimb themselves before they hit the hereafter? Let this be my living will-- I want to go out as incorruptible as possible (but don't encase me in wax if I am not to make me look Madam Tussauds saintly.)