At approximately 23:23:23 PM last night, I found myself standing on a bridge next to an old crazy Reverend with an attitude and a bottle of tequila. He looked up at me and said, "Don't jump, you pathetic waste of protoplasm, God's got plans for you, he wants you to erect a giant statue in the Lord's name, a statue of Moses and Elijah and Peter and Paul, and see, they're singing doo-wop, dig? We figure Moses is the low bass, the foundational figure, and Elijah probably wails on the high tenor like the happiest horniest kitty cat on Earth. And he also wants you to go back to school and get a degree in nursing."

There followed a great whistling sound as I plummeted toward the water, and all I could think as I smashed into the surface with the force of a brick being hurled out a train at a baby carriage and my insides split open was, quite simply, "Excuse you?"