Once, I told my mother-in-law that if there was no food in Heaven then I didn't want to go.
If everything we do and say is really recorded by the angels, that one might come back to bite me in the butt.
If I was pure in heart I could with good conscience report that I was so looking forward to Conference in order to feast upon the words of the Apostles as a balm to my needy soul. Instead, my slightly irreverent nature forces me to honestly report that I was so looking forward to a good excuse to sit down for a few hours with nothing to do but knit an overdue Yoda hat and play with my Martha Stewart glitter.
If I go to Hell its going to be for licorice, a Star Wars costume, and a little bling on the front porch. Heaven be merciful! If not, I shall be sitting between J. Golden Kimball and my Dad, who always jokes that I can sit next to him in Hell.
Fitting that Sister Dalton's should be my favorite talk. Remember that time you came to pick me up? Yeah. Thanks for that.
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