Bang! Zoom! The very first “Ask daveb!” question has arrived!

Totally-Taco-TOnii from Jersey asks:

Q:

Dear daveb,

What happens when you die… and shit like that?

Ps. This is actually from my roomate.

TOnii

A: Well TOnii, that’s quite a brainsqueeze of a question. Mere humans may balk when faced with such a task as answering such a daunting query, but not daveb. Daveb rules!

There’s a fucking fecal cornucopia of cultures, religions and semi-coherent belief systems out there. Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Muslims and so many others all have their opinions. It’s a big place, this Spaceship Earth. So, who’s right and who’s got their head up the cosmic donkey’s ass? Get ready. Are you sitting down? Everyone. They’re all wrong. Seriously. No lie. So where do we go when we die? Does anyone know?

You bet your ass someone knows. Daveb rules! He knows everything and since you asked nicely, he will learn you something big, so stop fucking around, sit straight and pay attention because you’re about to hear the truth, straight from the Pope’s colon polyp.

When you die, your soul doesn’t leave the Earth. In fact, it goes to a really fucking fat guy with clammy hands named Earl who lives in Fort Dick, California and has been doing the whole afterlife thing on the side as a hobby. The rest of the time, he sells rubber industrial O-rings to factories. I told you that you’d be better off sitting down.

Earl (last name withheld for privacy) started collecting the souls of the dead as a young man, fresh from the Korean war. The idea came to him one evening while teaching his four year-old son to catch fireflies with mason jars in the backyard and while originally started as something to pass the time, Earl’s afterlife has grown to quite the cottage industry.

Earl’s first setup was a five gallon paint bucket behind the garage and today has expanded to fill the entire garage, a toolshed and several Hefty trash bins. Most recently, Earl has begun working on an addition to the house which he hopes to house all the souls of the dead and perhaps create Fort Dick’s first and only tourist attraction.

So there you go TOnii, question answered. Keep ‘em coming people!

[Ask daveb anything! Either use this form or send an email to webmaster [at] davebgimp [dot] com with “Ask daveb” as the subject line. Remember, daveb knows all!]

In an effort to keep from falling asleep maintaining my own website, I’ve been thinking (and thunking) of different things to do, smell, fondle and roll around in. Don’t say I never did nothin’ fer youse slobs.

One of the many criticisms I’ve endured on this wretched and slightly moist journey on spaceship earth is that I’m a full-of-shit-know-it-all. I know everything and if I don’t, I’ll fucking make it up and deliver it so convincingly, you might as well swallow it as truth, straight from the nun’s ass. I am a fountain of fact, hear me spurt, watch me sputter.

So with this torrid truth in mind and at heart, a thought occured to my little, old, gnome-like self. Wouldn’t it be just peachy keen to start a question and answer section, O brilliant and infallible one?

The answer, of course, was a resounding “Motherfucking right! You are a monkey-humping gen-u-ine genius, daveb!” While it’s never a great idea to engage in screaming dialogs with one’s self while in a public setting such as the office, it seems like a good idea and I’m going to roll with it.

If you have a question, a problem or issue that bedevils your mind, crusts your brain-stem and has you twisting and sweating up the bedsheets in the wee hours of the morning, daveb is your man. Be it a question of love, who killed Kennedy, or who the fuck is Keyser Soze, just ask daveb and he’ll clue your punk ass in.

You can submit questions to daveb here or you can email webmaster [at] davebgimp [dot] com with “Ask daveb” as the subject line. Citizens of Spaceship Earth, fear not! Your questions will be answered!