I receive a lot of e-mails about heaven where, I suppose, we all want to go. But, like Vosloosburg, nobody is really sure where it is.
And as I am away at present frolicking on the beach in my Speedo on the North Coast, I thought I’d share some of the stories about heaven sent to me by readers over the years.
Long ago, says Des Adam in Bedfordview, a woman, Ethel, went to a séance and managed to contact her husband.
She called out in a tremulous voice, “Hello, Bert, is that you?”
“Are you happy, Bert?”
“Are you happier than when you were with me, Bert?”
“Oh (somewhat hurt). Well, heaven must be a nice place then, hey?”
“I’m not in heaven, Ethel.”
I mentioned in this column in January an e-mail from Linda M Smith telling me about a couple – Myrtle and Joe – who had been married for more than 50 years. Then Myrtle died. A couple of months later Joe died.
As Joe went through the Pearly Gates he saw Myrtle running towards him.
Joe shouted: “Hold your horses, my dear! The deal was very clear: ‘Until death do us part!’”
This prompted readers to send more jokes about heaven. Several told me of a couple who made a deal that whoever died first would come back and inform the other if there was indeed life after death – if reincarnation was true.
The husband was the first to die and true to his word, made contact:
“Is that you, Bob?”
“Yes, I’ve come back like we agreed.”
“That’s wonderful! What’s it like?”
“Well, I get up in the morning, I have sex. I then have breakfast and then off to the golf course.
“I have sex again, bask in the warm sun and then make love a couple of more times.
“Then I have lunch (you’d be proud – lots of greens).
“Another romp around the golf course, then pretty much making love for the rest of the afternoon.
“After supper, it’s back to the golf course again.
“Then it’s more sex until late at night.
“I catch some much-needed sleep and then, next day, back on the golf course.”
“Oh, Bob, so you’re in Heaven?”
“No, I’m a rabbit on Springs Golf Course.”
ARE THERE LAWYERS IN HEAVEN?
A teacher, a dustbin man and a lawyer reach heaven.
St Peter was in a bad mood and said they must pass a test to get through the gates.
He asks the teacher: “What was the name of the ship that hit the iceberg and sunk?”
The teacher says: “The Titanic.”
St Peter lets him through.
He turns to the dustbin man, and thinking his smell might offend the angels, he asks a difficult one: “How many died on the Titanic?”
The dustbin man guesses: “1 228” and St Peter lets him in.
St Peter then turns to the lawyer: “Name them.”
NOT JUST NOW, TA
Joburg city centre. A hot gospeller is preaching above the sound of traffic: “Repent, ye sinners! Give up that vile stuff you are drinking. Come and be saved. All those who want to go to heaven stand over here.
“You sir! Come and join us.”
“Not intereshted!” says the tipsy hobo.
“You don’t want to go to heaven?”
“So when you die you want to rot in hell?”
“Oh, when I die? Thatsh different. I thought you were making up a load right now.”