Today I learned that any slim chance I had of not going to Hell has likely evaporated. That's right, I believe I will soon begin working on Sundays, desecrating the Sabbath.

Sure, I've worked on Sundays before, both while in college and while tending bar. The customers on the other side of the bar were truly doing the Lord's bidding--drinking vodka on the rocks while avoiding doing anything that could possibly be conceived as work.

But the Lord is forgiving, and hath forgiven me for my previous violations of the code of the Sabbath. As we know, however, He subscribes to a "3 strikes and you're out" policy, evidenced by his turn of the cheek the first two times a young Jesus stormed the walls of Zion with his heavenly phalanx of ax-wielding angels. Both times, the holy son was rebuked by the Mongols. On the third time, where Jesus again failed to take the stronghold (but gained notoriety when he took a bullet from a Nazi sergeant that was headed for the head of the ever-popular Cleitus the Black), his father decided to make an example. As we all know, it was at this point that Jesus was sentenced to fight the Rancor-beast in Jabba the Hutt's castle, establishing a firm precedent.

But I digress. I only hope that the news I can scrounge up on Sundays will somehow make up for the blatant violation of the Seventh day. Although, at this point, I almost wonder whether Saturday is actually the Sabbath, as it is the final day of the week on Christian calendars. If this is indeed the case, I may be in the clear.