Bread O

Before composing an inspirational homily about the after life heaven on Planet Blop, I went to the cafe down the street for morning coffee. An hour of coffee, prayer and contemplation at the cafe in the strip mall this morning, order a medium black coffee. Sit at a table where a man just got up and left, seat still warm. Waves of chatter from people gathered around tables made it difficult to concentrate, but at the same time, made my mind more fluid and receptive to messages beaming down from the enlightened Planet of Blop, to guide world-wearing beings down the hard road of life.

 Lohbado wandered into the forest of his confused mind and found the path to heaven, the peaceable kingdom on Planet Blop, a giant version of life here on earth, but without the shortcomings. In the heaven of Planet Blop, roses were without thorns, one could hob nob with celebrities and have the desired hairdo or set of boobs, lips, shoulders, masculine, feminine, although experts say celestial beings don't have genitals or digestive organs. Perhaps  masculine or feminine is an irrelevant distinction for afterlife beings of Planet Blop heaven. 

Without the battle of the sexes, one could live in a state of uninterrupted blissful streaming or orgasmic satiation. To appreciate the bliss, images of life on earth are projected on giant video screens, as a reminder of the misery one left behind, after one died and went to the after life heaven of Planet Blop. Lohbado felt pity for those who chose alternate routes through life. He was certain that the Way to Planet Blop heaven salvation was the only Way and that those who chose alternate routes were destined to sorrow, disappointment and in some cases, the lake of eternal fire, or hell, the place where those who disagree with Blop opinions end up.

Grateful to have found the Way, Lohbado beat his chest and shouted: Ooo-Cha, Ooo-ooo-cha and so on. He preached morning proclamations, mind come lose. Coffee worked like a can opener on his brain, letting lose a ball of worms, oozing, basking and wriggling, his voice, loud like a stone rattling around in an aluminum can.