Oblong Scone

I’m going to Hell apparently, so I’ve been told. Told directly, not by someone shouting or screaming at me, but by someone who actually doesn’t want me to go there. So I’m headed there, not because I’m a bad person, but because I don’t believe. I don’t believe that Jesus is the son of God, and also part of God, along with the Holy-spirit, who is also part of God, as of course is the Father. Three of them, all distinct and at the same time all one God. You can see how difficult it’s going to be for me qualify for Heaven. And I know I sound like I’m taking the piss, but I really don’t know how to start believing, which I sort of want to do if it means I have the opportunity to avoid being thrown into an eternal fire. I do try, and I think I sort of did believe a bit until I bothered to look a little closer at the whole religion thing. Then I found that I really couldn’t, which is sort of the opposite of what’s supposed to happen isn’t it? God created the universe and the planet Earth, I

I open the door and take a quick glance behind. Now this glance is only to check that there is no one directly behind me. It’s not some grand commitment to hold the door open for whoever might next come along. But whatever the intention of the glance, it can bring with it clumsy etiquette baggage. The problem occurs when there is someone walking towards the door behind you at what is called middle-distance. That is they are stuck between two categories, these being, A) close enough so that it’s clear that I should hold the door open until they get there and B) being far enough away that I can move on and let the door close behind me without having committed any kind of social spunk. Trouble is, it’s not always immediately obvious as to which category the person may be in. Often the second taken to ascertain this may have moved them from category B to the dirty cusp of category A. Uncertainty means I often just have to stand there and bare it. Now you may be asking ‘Why is it a problem

Forrest Gump said "Life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you gonna get." Why do I mention this now? Don't expect me to answer that, I have no idea. I can barely remember my name or what my name is. Anyway, I've never understood what it meant. I'd never really spent any amount of time pondering it, although I'd always meant to set a side a week for intensive contemplation on the subject. And that week has just come and gone. I’m pretty sure that Gump was wrong. Things were different in 1994, but the way people handle boxes of chocolates remains unchanged. With a variety box, people are all too aware of what they're "gonna get". Hours of staring at the chocolate key sheet ensures the only surprise they experience while chewing on the selection they arrived at after hours of careful deliberation, is that an "Almond Surprise" delivers no specific 'Surprise'. Maybe the surprise was intended to be the presence of the