What Is Kirk Cameron Thinking?

It's Snow Day!!!

One of the things about Heaven is that it's perfect weather all the time. It's always 73° F (I will never understand why you guys on Earth are so happy with 72° - it's like being an eighth of a teaspoon short of the perfect amount of marinara sauce for the perfect meatball sub and eating it happily anyway), there are always just a few fluffy clouds in the sky, the sun is always warm but never too bright, and there's just a hint of a gentle breeze wafting by.

Ahhhhhh....

But there are certain Human traits that people retain when they come to Heaven. So, as it is their nature, people always complain about it being "too perfect."

Seriously, I know. But just wait, because you'll do it, too. It'll sneak up on you. You'll be enjoying a peaceful picnic in the Golden Fields and without even realizing it, the words, "It's too quiet" will escape your lips. And then you'll start looking around you and muttering how the all the gold is a little intensely gold, isn't it? And then later you'll be on one of the roller coasters and realize that it is precisely the right amount of thrilling.

The next thing you know you'll be in my office banging your fists on my desk, your face going through several lovely shades of red being settling on a nice mauve, screaming, "IS IT SO HARD TO TURN THE TEMPERATURE DOWN BY ONE LOUSY DEGREE?!"

Yes, you will. You think you won't, but you will.

So, throughout the year I like to remind everyone just how good they have it by having days of alternative weather. Rain Day is the third Thursday in March, Fog Day is always May 9, Heat Wave Day is the first Monday after the first Thursday after the first full moon in August. And today? Today is Snow Day.

Of course, it wouldn't be very effective if these were perfect versions of alternative weather. If Rain Day were just a pleasant drizzle instead of a re-creation of the Great Flood times about 16 thousand, then people wouldn't ever learn to appreciate the perfect weather the rest of the year. If people were still able to see the ends of their own noses on Fog Day, no one would say, "Okay, okay! I'm sorry, God! I'll never complain about the weather again!"

Snow Day is my favorite.

Strrrrrrrike!

It's a popular urban legend that whenever thunder rolls, it's because I'm up here bowling. While the thunder thing is untrue, it is a fact that I love bowling. And, naturally, I'm really good. The last time I went I scored a 312.

I know that down on Earth the highest score you can get is 300, but up here you get bonus points every time you make one of the pins wince.

Creation That Didn't Pan Out #646

Dragons.

Guest Blogger: The Pete Edition

Sometimes I get busy. And as much as I love writing this blog, it's not exactly my top priority. It falls somewhere inbetween keeping the Earth from barreling headlong into the sun and cleaning out the lint trap in the dryer. When I have a lot of things on my plate, it tends to fall by the wayside.

So I've come up with a great solution! I'm going to let some of my friends (and Moses) serve as guest bloggers from time to time! First up: My best friend, Saint Peter.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand GO!

Why I Don't Blog
by Saint Peter

I used to have a blog. I updated it... oh, maybe a dozen times.

It got old.

I've never really been much for words. I'm more of a man of action.

I mean, I didn't exactly talk Malchus' ear off. You know?

You know.

Even when I wrote those epistles, I had to have somebody else put it all down for me while I gave them a rough idea of what I wanted it to say. They turned out alright.

God, on the other hand, is full of words.

Lots of big, loud, exaggerated words.

Which makes a blog the perfect thing for him. But not so much for me. Occasional guest-blogger is more than enough for me.

I can't even think of a good way to end this thing.

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving!

As you know, I usually don't pay much attention to my Canadian children.

It's not that I love them any less, it's just.... well, they're boring. And they rarely get into trouble, so it's not like I have to keep my eye on them every waking second. Not that I don't occasionally appreciate that. It's kind of like I'm one of those moms with 195 children at the grocery store, and they're all off in a million directions. Italy is crawling on the floor trying to look up ladies' skirts, America is pelting passersby with pistachios out of the bulk bins, Japan is building a robot out of bananas and a jar of mayonnaise to try to get one of those giant bouncy balls out of the net thing, and Belgium keeps falling down as it tries to run past the end of its monkey-backpack-child-leash.

But Canada? Canada is holding on to the side of the cart with one hand and casually reading the nutrition label on a box of bran flakes.

I mean, it has its benefits, don't get me wrong. But it also means that I never get to ground Canada or send it to its room without dinner or tell it that it can yell and scream and cry all it wants to but there's no way I'm letting it leave the house in that outfit, which as you all know is the greatest part of being a parent.

The power.... ohhhhh, the power....

But as I'm sure you remember (and if you don't, you can refresh your memory by clicking here - just be sure to repent later for your forgetfullness), Bandit is Canadian. And this is his first Canadian Thanksgiving since he came to Heaven.

Almost everybody feels a little Earth-sick on the first big holiday they spend in Heaven. So the Missus and I decided to make an all-out Canadian Thanksgiving for Bandit to make him feel better. The Missus is cooking a delicious turkey with all the fixings, Bandit and I are going to watch the Calgary/Montreal game later (I promised not to tell him who wins ahead of time), and then we're going to play a little hockey after dinner.

By the way, the house smells SOOO GOOOD right now. I think the smell of all that Canadian Thanksgiving food is really taking him back. And later, when we sit down to this deliciously aromatic feast and say, "No, Bandit, this is people food. It's not for you. Eat your kibble," it'll really feel like home.

Friday's Forgotten Commandment

Thou shalt not useth the expression, "It's always in the last place you look," because once thou hast found the thing that thou wast searching for, thou dost not continue searching, so obviously it was in the last place that thou looked; so that if thou sought and did not find, and sought and did not find, and sought and found, thou wouldst not seek again, now would thee?

You Wouldn't Want To Miss This One!

As you know, I like to take online personality quizzes when I'm bored. I just took one that told me what actor would play me if they made a movie about me. And it was so fun that I called Pete over at the Pearlies so he could take it, too. Then we had Satan and Moses try.

Let me tell you, this would be an awesome movie. In fact, Pete and I are going to start working on a screenplay tonight. We think it will be an action/comedy/drama. We'll have to take a bit of creative license, though, because truthfully there aren't a whole lot of things blowing up in slow motion in Heaven.

So, if you were going to see a movie about modern-day Heaven, this is what you would see:

My result:

Pete's result:



Satan's result:



Moses' result:

Creation That Didn't Pan Out #3,246

Merpeople.

Little Known Fact

Despite popular belief, Satan and I have never played a game of chess.

We rock at Pictionary, though.

Friday's Forgotten Commandment

Thou shalt not send a postcard to thy husband when thou art on thy business trip to Vancouver that sayeth, "Hi, honey! Vancouver is great, but I wish I weren't stuck in boring meetings all day so I could see a bit more of the city. I hope everything at home is okay. I'm running out of room but I just want you to know that I'm cheating on you with my personal assistant Byron" because as thou knowest, the name 'Byron' is stupid and thy husband would much rather thou cheated on him with someone with a real man's name.