Just search out your own sources. I can help you to be free, free from everybody, including me, because I think freedom is the ultimate value.
Relax, laugh, forget all about religion ….
It is a dark and stormy day at the Vatican. The bells are tolling ominously, as inside, on his deathbed, lies Pope the Polack, breathing his last.
At the bedside there is a crowd of bishops, cardinals, priests and other homosexuals, moaning and chanting. Cardinal Cats-ass is crying his eyes out, as he is bent over the pope’s face.
“Ah! Don’t be upset,” gasps Pope the Polack. “Don’t cry. The Vatican council will surely find a great man to take my place. As a matter of fact, I am sure he will do much better than me.”
“But,” whimpers Catsass, “that is just what they promised us last time!”
Three newly deceased candidates for heaven sit in the waiting room of Saint Peter’s office. Finally Saint Peter returns from lunch and asks the receptionist to send in the first candidate.
“How did you die, and why do you think you are eligible for heaven?” Saint Peter asked.
“Well,” said the man, “for some time I suspected my wife was cheating on me. This morning a neighbor called and confirmed the awful truth. He told me a guy had entered our apartment a half hour ago and had not come out. Furiously I rushed home, burst into the apartment, and found my wife lying naked on the bed. I started to search the apartment in a jealous rage. I looked through the whole flat — under the bed, in the closets, behind curtains, everywhere.
I found no one. Finally, out of sheer frustration and blind rage, I picked up the refrigerator, carried it out onto the back porch and threw it down into the back yard, three stories below. The exertion and excitement must have been too much for me, I must have died right then and there of a heart attack.”
“Well,” said Saint Peter, “that’s a very unusual way to die, but entirely moral. Admitted. Send in the next candidate.”
The second candidate told an even more surprising story. “Saint Peter,” he said, “if you will excuse the expression, I swear to God I was minding my own business taking a nap in the hammock out in the back yard. I heard a noise and looked up just in time to see a fullsize refrigerator falling on me from the third floor.”
“Hmmm,” said Saint Peter. “Most tragic and most circumstantial. But, again, entirely proper and moral. Admit this man and send in the next candidate.”
“Saint Peter,” said the third candidate, “I know you are not going to believe a word I say, I just know it. I got called to this lady’s apartment to fix her refrigerator. I was working on it when all of a sudden she screamed, ‘Here comes my husband! For God’s sake, hide!’ So help me, Saint Peter, the last thing I remember was climbing into the refrigerator and closing the door.”
OSHO