women in the he-realm

Fishing people means delivering the right messages, the better tidings so to say, which made me worrying how to continue. But you sinners, you made it easy for me ... uh ... by exhibiting your carnal desires, a trait which is almost exclusively male as I've been told.

(I considered to tell you something about the beginning of times, but that can wait.)

There are a lot of misunderstandings about these places here, but don't have illusions. There is not such a thing as heavenly sex. And if you are going for Jehovah, you can forget the whole concept, be sure about that. In my place there are some rudimentary remains of the thing.

It's easy for me to catch gays and lesbians along the "path to heaven". If I see one, I do not need to load my boat with sweeties, or a bottle of wine. I just ask do you know what you are heading for. And if I tell them about the throne of Jehovah and his sitting in judgment over all your sins, I have an easy job. I don't know what it is, but they've told me about some rotten ideas of your church leaders.
Well, that gives my site some characteristics of the gay scene. As soon as we have crossed the river they start asking about Jacuzzi's and king size beds, and I'm happy to provide them.
But change the concept a bit, a quarter turn I would say. Think about it as something less physical, more spiritual.

I know, not all tidings are good tidings, but better to be honest with you - I hate to have frustrated people around my place.

So, what do you think about women in a place that was from the beginnings of time a he-realm and is a he-realm and always will be: Jehovah's realm. One of the concepts of his place which you got right in your mind is that you have to sing. Even if you can't sing, you have to sing. At some higher point in my country I can get a pretty good impression of Jehovah's business.

It's as easy as boring. The "judgment before his throne" consists of testing your voice. Forget all about America's Got Talent. No camera’s. No spotlights. No fancy dressings, no merry chatting. Just a simple test: either you can sing, and you earn yourself a place in the front rows – okay, there’s of course only one front row, but you get the idea - or you can't and you are moved to the last rows, so you can't spoil the show. The choir is something like a double choir - no soloists! forget also about harps or cymbals! no dancing! Every choir consists of four ... er ... regiments.

The woman's dress? Think of a nun.
And no countertenors hey. Four regiments consisting of men. Four regiments with exclusively women.

Once I overheard a dialogue between Peter and a professional singer, just arrived.
I'm glad to be in heaven. My whole life was singing.
Peter said nothing.
In my world I was a famous basso buffo.
Peter said nothing.
Where are the basses. I like to meet them.
Who do you think is the boss here?
Peter got angry.
Jehovah.
Jehovah? Jehovah? I'll learn you Jehovah. I’ll learn you bassobuffoing.
The poor devil didn't make it to the throne. Peter kicked his ass and ordered him to the last rows of the tenors.

Now, if that isn't hell, I'm not Satan.

By the way, I don't think my place is the right place for Leonardo. He's a bit of a thinker. That's also a concept you should forget: thinking. Thinking means worrying. At my place there's absolutely no need to worry.
At this moment I'm not sure if I'll try to tempt Leonardo to my place. Better to hide my entrance when he's passing. I hope for him that he has a good voice, otherwise he'll be condemned to sing forever and forever in the last rows, that ever extending army of good-for-nothings.

NB
This is the third of a series of impressions of the dwellings of Jehovah and Satan
For the fourth impression follow the link from the beginning of times