It was another night of tripping out when the conversation meandered in the direction of karma and the kind of metaphysical clap-trap that we so often indulge in to exercise the old brain cells, when The Cherry Lady, just back from an extended sojourn in Sunny California where she was threatened – first by floods, and then more recently, by bush fires – steered the conversation in the direction of ‘death’. And I could see that Java, who was more than a little thrilled to see Cher return, was hanging onto her every word. Now although more than one of our friends have had their suspicions of how strongly Java feels about Cher, he has always maintained that they are just really, really close friends – an absolutely platonic relationship, he says, in spite of some of the little bits and pieces that make the rest of us think otherwise.

Anyway, to cut through the extraneous crap and make the story shorter, the next day The Sandman sends us this intriguing little gem by Woody Allen – one of Java’s top ten humour-mongers, which goes like this:

In my next life I want to live my life backwards. You start out dead and get that out of the way. Then you wake up in an old people’s home feeling better everyday. You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension, and then when you start work, you get a gold watch and a party on your first day. You work for forty years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement. You party, drink alcohol, and are generally promiscuous, then you are ready for high school. You then go to primary school, you become a kid, you play. You have no responsibilities; you become a baby until you are born. And then you spend your last nine months floating in luxurious spa like conditions with central heating and room service on tap, larger quarters every day and then Voila! You finish off as an orgasm.

How about that? Or would you prefer it to ending and beginning (or vice-versa) like this ?

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