It was nice to find out I wasn’t getting any mail from the family because I’m deceased and not just unpopular. Now that I’m no longer among the living I found out that the Catholic Church was right. There is a purgatory. Actually, it’s Hell but not a life sentence. I mean death sentence. Eventually, God lets me out.

The devil is about what I expected him to be. He’s ugly, evil, stinks, had bad breath, lies...No sense dwelling on his good points. Let’s just say he’s not very pleasant.

Went to the Snakeeater’s Club last night. To get in you have to eat a live snake. It’s sort of like eating a live chicken. Not bad if you put enough salsa on it. The drinks are free.

Stopped at Rock Hudson’s table. He was sitting with James Dean talking about their one good movie. Dean’s here for lying.

“ Live fast, die young, and leave a good looking corpse. Sure, I said that. How the Hell did I know I was going face first through the windshield. Huh, how was I supposed to know that? Man, this sucks. Sorry, Rock.”

“No sweat. I’m used to that. At least I died happy knowing that Doris Day will worry the rest of her life about AIDS, the two-faced .....”

No one here is very happy I can tell you. Even Richard Pryor, who comes here to rest, is unhappy when people walk up and light their cigars with him. George Carlin, who thinks the place is a bore, finds it hard to shock anyone here with his language. He sounds like a librarian in this place.

Well, whatta ya know. I’m alive again! A woodchuck yanked the stake out of my heart and I dug myself free. I look little worse although not bad for being dead for a while.

Found out there’s no light at the end of the tunnel like those near death goofs claim. There’s fire at the end of the tunnel. No angels playing harps either. It’s Jim Morrison on a really bad night.