1. Don't make a mess.
2. Don't bellyache about lost opportunities. It's too late.
3. Hopefully, you remembered to renew your life insurance.
4. If you're lying there all peaceful and you suddenly see angels or the Light, don't necessarily take that as a good sign.
5. Wear something comfortable when dying. It may be warm where you're going.
6. Make sure you have a change of underwear.
7. Don't drive a car and die. You'll most likely get a ticket and probably your license will be revoked.
8. Make sure your personal things are in order. Who gets what? This will help avoid nasty confrontations amongst your family. You might want to give everything to me, just as a precaution.
9. Don't forget to yell out right at the end, I'm sorry. This will keep them guessing.
10. In your last moments, try to keep it light. Maybe a joke or a little magic trick.

* Never say anything you mean. You'll only live to regret it.
* Insanity is nothing more than a minority view of reality.
* Talking is way over-rated.
* The single most important factor in marriages that last is not love, but the overwhelming need to always be wrong.
* Try not to be killed while driving a car. You'll probably get a ticket, and your license will likely be revoked.
* Fear cripples many a health person. Remember this wise old saying: The only thing we have to fear is-the government.
* There is a mental health diagnosis for every human dilemma. This in and of itself is insane.
* Never, ever, take the advice of a counselor whose life is more screwed up than yours. In fact, you might want to charge them.
* The higher the degree, the less likely the person will be able to help you.
* When your kids want to leave home, let them.
* In life, there are only three things that count: breathing, money, and sex, not necessarily in that order.

Question: Mr. Peever, let's talk about your views on the religious right. They seem to be growing in number?
Answer: Yes, and so are my hemorrhoids.

Question: What do you think about mixing religion with politics?
Answer: Stinks worse than hog factories.

Question: What about the President getting personal messages from God?
Answer: I've never directly talked to a deity. Nor can I remember one ever directly speaking to me. Although I did hear a strange voice speaking to me after a half bottle of Jack Daniel's, so I could be wrong about this.

Question: Do you think the country is more conservative today than it was 20 years ago?
Answer: Yes. The yuppies grew older instead of up.

Question: Your comments on right-wing ministries.
Answer: Everyone has a right to make a living. Being able to con people into giving you money is an age-old art. They want your money, you want their assurance.

Question: Assurance?
Answer: Assurance that you're the chosen one. You know, guarantees that you're the right race, the right religion, the right denomination, the right sex, or the right whatever. They give you assurances, you give them cash.

Question: Isn't it much deeper than that?
Answer: Oh, it's deep. Hip boot deep.

Question: What about right-wing spokesmen like Rush Limbaugh?
Answer: Great entertainment, although I still prefer The Three Stooges. He's one part fear, one part lies, and one part bullshit. Put them all together and you get a Rush. Better to try an enema.

Question: Any last comments on right-wing, conservative, Christians?
Answer: These right-wing, Christian soldiers are a scary group. This is the same fundamentalism we are fighting in Iraq. Try as I may, I don't see a whole lot of difference. These people are driven by a peculiar concept of Christianity, one that I do not recognize or understand. I have read no accounts of Christ starting a fight, killing his enemies, or endorsing nitwits like Jerry Falwell or Pat Robertson. The whole thing is odd, at best.

*I hate it when I hear the expression, "Dumb as a box of rocks." Little do you know.

*I've been skipped across the water more times than I can count. Skimming across the surface, sometimes to end up sinking in the deep, other times to break free of the water and end up on the other bank. Is it you helping me gain my freedom? Or is it me helping you?

* Throwing me around must be something of an instinct in you humans. Little children, right off the bat, have a fascination and curiosity which drives them to pick me up and let me fly. Parents usually come a-running yelling, "You could hurt someone. You could knock their eye out." They never think of me.

* I get tossed into the water more than a worm on a hook. Up in the air I go, most often belly-flopping into the deep. Is it the rise and fall that is of interest to the thrower? Or is it the ripples that are left behind after the encounter? How many lives have I touched? As I sink into the depths, my being rings out across the water. My life has made a difference. Has yours?

* The things I can be used for. The list is endless. From your very beginning I was there. You see, I was around long before you. I have a lot of precious knowledge that you are only now beginning to understand. Millions of years separate us. I was one of the first weapons that you possessed. It was necessary. Someone had to protect you and help provide for you. Rather quickly you began to use me for shelter. Another of my many abilities. I enjoy this job. And oh, the stories I hear and the things I don't see. Births, deaths, sorrow, happiness, worries, dreams, broken promises, love, desires. You pick me up and stack me on top of others and before you know it, we are a stone wall. In the open, where the wind takes it's toll, we stand sturdy. I can be a great paperweight. You paint me to look like a ladybug, and call me a pet. Your imagination is a magnificent thing. It gives me limitless freedom.

* There is no group that understands me any better than Native Americans. They treat me with dignity and a sense of awe and respect. They understand my strength and wisdom and determination. They call me grandfather. There is nothing more meaningful to my existence than to have the honor of taking part in their sweatlodge ceremony. They heat me until I'm red hot, then they place me in a pit inside a dome shaped structure that is completely covered with blankets. When the entrance is enclosed, the only light comes from my glow. The leader sprinkles water on me, creating a searing steam. We together descent into the bowels of the earth to search our souls. Chanting, drumming, singing and praying, we make our confessions to the Great Spirit. We cry for the sorrows we have seen and for those we have endured. We laugh and sing and give praises for the joys we have known and the happiness we are yet to experience. In this sweatlodge, we are all one. There is no difference between us. Our spirits intertwine in the synchronistic act of creation. We have all come from nowhere and are now something. The steam cuts deep into our being, but the pain is necessary to understand the significance of what is unfolding before us. When the door finally opens, and the air rushes in to comfort your sweat-laden body, you are faced with a new beginning. You and I are both reborn. I, perhaps a million years old, have fulfilled my solemn obligation. And you, you are once again made whole. You are free to be. To become. To try again. To do better. We journeyed together to hell, and we transformed it to a thing of beauty. This shows that all things are possible. This proves we are all sacred.

* I spend a lot of time with you humans. You set me on desks and bookcases and on window sills. You put me in necklaces and amulets and rings. You carve me into things, and when you die, you carve your memory into me. You have your computers and all your high tech stuff, but you always come back to me. Why do you think that is?

Bush can declare war and not have a clue.
Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan.
It doesn't much seem to matter, man.
He's out to get and steal whatever he can.

Just how is it this is suppose to work?
How much flag waving and song singing are we suppose to do?
What exactly is this deal?
How is it we are suppose to feel?

The women, children, elderly all.
He'll cut them down and they'll take the fall.
The hospitals, factories, even the schools.
It doesn't seem to matter much to these crazy fools.

Just how is it this is suppose to work?
How much flag waving and song singing are we suppose to do?
What exactly is this deal?
How is it we are suppose to feel?

How much safer do you feel today?
Without 9/11 it would have come down the same way.
These guys are out to get all the oil.
And they don't much care about the bloody soil.

They're war dogs man, each and every one of them.
They'll gnaw on your bones and steal your homes.
They don't care what it takes, or the widows they make.
It's the War Dogs man, what a pitiful plan.

Just how is it this is suppose to work?
How much flag waving and song singing are we suppose to do?
Just exactly what is this deal?
How is it we are suppose to feel?

War Dogs, man.

War Dogs.

They're out to get us, man.
They'll take every thing they can.

War Dogs.