Table of Contents
A PLUME BOOK
HELL IS FOR REAL, TOO
SKIP HUSSEIN SHMULEY was born in Topeka, Kansas, during a tornado at 4:20 p.m. on April 20, 1969, the son of a pawn shop owner and an amateur ballroom dancer. Like so many young men growing up in the 1970s, he dreamed of one day becoming an accountant. In the words of his eleventh grade guidance counselor, Young Shmuley has a burning desire to change the world, one spreadsheet at a time.
Shmuley got his accounting degree from Cornell in 1991, and finally passed his CPA exam in 2008. He and his current wife and family live in Barstow, California, where the average July temperature is hotter than hell.
Since his return from hell and the publication of this book, hes been traveling across the United States on the raving lunatic circuit, preaching about the coming apocalypse with the help of a homemade sandwich board. Hes also enjoying the freedom that comes from postvasectomy sex and postvasectomy masturbation.
In his spare time, after having a restraining order overturned, he coaches the high school girls lacrosse team.
His other hobbies include competitive eating and being cuckolded by his wife.
Praise for Skip Shmuley andHell Is for Real, Too
Skip Shmuley takes the reader deep into the bowels of hell, sloshes them around, and craps them back out again.
Mark Twain
The lamestream media hate this book, so I love it!
Sarah Palin
Loved it. A tour de force!
Charles Manson
I think this will make a great Pixar movie.
Hosni Mubarak
Love the book and admire the man. I checked him out thoroughly.
John McCain
Reading what lies in store was enough to change my life around.
Hugo Chvez
Hell is heinous.
Keanu Reeves
I want more money.
Jose Reyes
If you readjust one phony, made-up book about religion all year, read Heaven Is for Real. If you read two, try this one.
The Vatican
Dont steal this book; its not worth it.
Abbie Hoffman
Shall I compare this to a burning bag of doggie doo?
William Shakespeare
Dibs on the movie rights!
Leni Riefenstahl
A fatwa against Mr. Shmuley.
Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
There is a hell. Oy vey.
Osama bin Laden
If hell is the punishment for making people suffer, I am so sorry I made Alabama.
God
Shmuleys vision of hell is worse than even what I have seen.
Jenna Jamesons gynecologist
I think I could play the lead when it comes to dinner theater.
Don Knotts
Hell is much worse than being seated next to me.
The crying baby in seat 17C
To the almighty Supreme Being,
who watches over all of us and determines
our fate and destiny.
By that I mean either Satan or God.
Acknowledgments
There are so few people to thank who made this book a reality. This book would not have been written if my Dad had worn a condom. So thanks, Mom and Dad; its amazing what a night of Riunite on ice can lead to.
Next to David Rosenthal and everyone at Plume: youve always been inspiring and encouraging, helping me in every way as I went about sharing the tale of my journey. And to my current wife and kids, the single most sarcastic thanks imaginable, as they were completely not helpful and incredibly antagonistic about this whole venture until they realized I was getting paid and that when I die and dont come back, they will share in the cash. So they think.
To JM, DM, SM, RM, and JK, you know who you are... you are those odd people who prefer initials.
And finally to my Scoutmaster Mr. Giffords, who really helped shape my worldview and taught me that what happens in a tent stays in a tent. Or to quote him verbatim, Boychik, what happens in Resica Falls campground stays at Resica Falls campground. Which was true until the moment when my trip to hell triggered my repressed memory syndrome. Who knew there wasnt a merit badge for testicle tickling? Well now the world knows.
Prologue
In April 1966 Time magazine raised the question: Is God Dead?
In April 2011 Time asked: What If There Is No Hell?
I cant answer the former... but I can attest to you that hell is in fact very, very real.
I know.
I was there for a long weekend.
This is my story.
Hell Is for Real
All the world knows the amazing story of little Colton Burpo, who nearly died during an emergency appendectomy and then, while in a coma on the operating table, went to heaven. His fathers book Heaven Is for Real has sold over a million copies and deservedly so. Only a cynic would believe that an evangelical pastor whose son had heard fifty-two thousand Bible stories from him over the years would then, after realizing the family owed thousands in medical bills, do the following: (1) prompt the young lad with leading questions; (2) elicit a story about Jesus, angels, and a God who is really really big; (3) write a book with a professional author; and (4) make big bucks off of it.
Heaven... and hell forbid that would ever happen.
It is only the nonbelievers and jaded agnostics who doubt good men of the book and cloth like Pastor Ted Meth and Men Haggard; Reverend Jimmy Come Blow Gabriels Trumpet Swaggart; Reverend Jim Shake Your Booty Bakker; Reverend Eddie Drop Your Pants, Lad, and Let Me See Your Key to Heaven Long; and, of course, Terry Burn, Baby, Burn Jones. These men are so honest and decent that God himself has ensured they live the lavish lifestyles they so richly deserve. As it is written in Celestines 1:27:
Thus saith the Lord, he who spreadeth the word of the good book needeth only followeth three of the ten commandments for it is yea my belief that .300 gets you into heaven or the Hall of Fame.
But this is my story, not the Burposand it is as real to me as the story Todd claims Colton told him. And I would swear with my hand on the Holy Bible and say, If Im lying send me straight to hellbut as you will see, Ive already been there.
Final Four weekend calls up memories of classic basketball games, drinking beer, eating chips, and spending hours in a sports bar watching games with friends. But the Final Four weekend of 2010 was a big deal for other reasons.
It was a Friday afternoon. April 2010. Like a lot of guys, I scheduled my vasectomy to coincide with the NCAA Tournament. My wife and I had decided after Little Timmy that wed had enough. Personally, I was feeling financially strapped, with eight kids between two different wives and one paternity suit still being adjudicated by Maury; plus, the current wife had been foaling out a kid every few years, so we agreed that spring 2010 was the perfect time to get the old tubes tied. The plan was foolproof. Get snipped on a Friday, lie in bed Saturday through Monday night, embedded in ice, and back to work at my accounting firm on Tuesday. I couldnt think of a better way to spend three days. Watching basketball and staring at my swollen testicles. The idea was once this was done, like Arnold Schwarzenegger and half the NBA, Id never have to worry again about wearing a condom.