The Great Plotnik

Thursday, June 02, 2005

OOPH: The Opposite of Heaven

Although Plotnikies believe in Heaven, where the streets are paved with chocolate cake and pastrami and heirloom tomatoes, we also believe in OOPH (Our Own Personal Hell). OOPH is where the things we dislike most on Earth will be gathered together to annoy us for all eternity.

Everyone's OOPH is different. For example, The Great Plotnik is sure his Own Personal Hell will come equipped with High Def TV and a repeating 6-hour Barney video.

The only music will be Celine Dion, accompanied by a slightly out of tune banjo.

Every meal will be the same: Aunt Booty's boiled turkey and sweet and sour liver.

The only guest at each meal will be some yahoo in a Giants cap who will prattle endlessly about Brian Johnson's home run. For those of you who don't understand how truly hideous this OOPH is, be thankful.

Obviously, the only way to avoid OOPH is to love everything and everybody equally. Maybe that's easy for you to say. The Great Plotnik has tried, believe me, but the Dalai Freaking Lama couldn't love Barney, Celine Dion, Aunt Booty's turkey and Brian Johnson.

1 Comments:

At 10:22 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

My own personal hell: going to a really great concert and sitting next to someone who either doesn't care about the show and hence feels comfortable talking through the whole thing as though you and the rest of the audience are invisible or, worse yet, as inanimate as the sofas in this person's living room; or, sitting next to someone who feels so moved by the quality of their wisdom relating to the finer points of whoever is actually making the music that they insist on providing a running commentary. These people should be shackled to a chair and forced to view a week's worth of campaign speeches by some obscure Russian poltician in the original Russian and then forced to produce extensive written commentary on their experience. This would then be read back to them by a six-year-old with a bad lisp in an endless tape loop. I'll leave it up to Dante to decide which circle of Hell they belong in.

 

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