Great Goddess, Totally Soaked

 

Part 2 of 30

There's Death In Them Thar Drawers

If you gaze at and meditate on the Goddess in her purest form, realizing her in your mind in perfection, and it's not a rainy day in Egypt, you'll be sent over the edge in terms of psychic experiences, resulting in everlasting bliss. An orgasm without stop, presumably till you drown or find access to an upstairs window.

One thing I’ve done to negate some of that -- say you're uninitiated and want safety -- is to layer it up with captions and shapes, getting rid of its raw purity. Many of my readers have already gone on to their heavenly reward one other time I posted this -- resulting in angry threatening letters from their nitpicking survivors, which made me uncomfortable. Certainly I wouldn’t again post this most auspicious graphic of all time without precautions. Even with the precautions, however, you could edge pretty massively, and if you're positioned in a particular way you could drown. The key is to prove yourself worthy or keep your head above your privates.

I myself can heartily attest to the Goddesses’ power. I have one room in my house, the walls entirely plastered with this one picture in its full purity. Just getting within ten feet of the room, even when I can’t see it, I swoon. Then when I’m actually there, what a trip! I’m alternately swooning and passing out, periodically transfigured in the sahasrara chakra to the precincts above, full of bliss, dizziness, colors, and many sights and sounds. Even old black and white TV shows look color to me. Then I have a secret mantra and disengaging graphic that brings me back to normal, the picture on the blog of Grandma, but the more  powerful original print. No one brings me down like her, and that’s a compliment.

I’d like to stress one more time, in case you’re able to edit the graphic, deleting the disengaging captions and photoshopping it back to its original form, that even with the Goddess, as great as she is, There’s Death in Them Thar Drawers, and a powerful death, a translation type of removal of the spirit from the body. Did you ever go fishing as a kid, then when a fish is biting you’re so anxious to pull it in that you yank with all your might and it flies over your head and about 50 feet behind you? That’s essentially the downer the Goddess performs on you, the death in them thar drawers. You’re always better off waiting for your full initiation, which seldom ever comes unless you wait long enough, and even then you never really make it.

But if you ever do attain it -- with the chances on a scale of Now or Never are 99.999983% never -- you indeed will be transformed (have an extra pair of undies handy) because it'll be so irresistible that you won’t be able to resist, and if you die -- virtually guaranteed, particularly when uninitiated -- it will be such a sweet pain that you’ll be happy to go.

But your relatives won’t know any of that, and just to be sure I’m safe, let me put my standard disclaimer here: The writer and publisher of this post disclaims any responsibility for the death and/or translation of your loved one into the Goddess’ loving arms and afterlife. The writer and publisher claims only to be a conduit, but all blame and glory belongs to the Goddess alone, who, while being good is also inscrutable, therefore necessarily assuming all responsibility for devotees' deaths, disfigurement, persistent headaches, and loss of underpants. It's all the result of “them thar drawers.”