Pennies From Heaven

One of the more disgusting features of Dear Abby's column -- second in despicableness only to her constant effort to sell her hack books of "gems" instead of giving advice -- is her publication of these stupid "Pennies From Heaven" stories. A typical story goes something like: "Dear Abby: I have been reading your penny from heaven stories with great interest, and I just had to share with you! Last week, in a fit of rage, I was forced to slit the wrists of my beloved wife of 38 years so she wouldn't learn about the STD I gave her (I tried poison, but she wouldn't eat the bowl of apple seeds I told her was Grape Nuts cereal. 38 years of marriage and she still doesn't trust me! I was going to write you about that, but I guess I won't now.). It was a tragic event that the entire family is still recovering from. A few days after, I found a penny on -- of all places! -- the sidewalk in front of me! I had just been thinking about her and where to hide her body since it's starting to smell, and I knew that this was a sign. Thanks you to you, Abby, I know my wife has forgiven me. God bless you."

These stories are a bit weak.

But -- who am I to doubt? Perhaps in the afterlife, we'll be gifted with the magical ability to manipulate matter no larger than a penny. Of course, with pennies being so common, it's possible you may find one and incorrectly assume it's "from Heaven." Therefore, to aid you in the proper identification of pennies that I leave for you, I am providing this simple guide:

Penny found . . .

. . . on the sidewalk: not me.
. . . superglued to the sidewalk: me.
. . . on a case of Cherry Coke in the grocery store: me.
. . . on a case of Wild Cherry Pepsi in the grocery store: not me.
. . . up Dear Abby's nose: me.
. . . in New Mexico: not me.
. . . in the first copy on the left of I, Claudius in the University of Arkansas library: me.
. . . in your penny loafer: not me.
. . . on an X-Ray of any part of your body: me.
. . . in your Bible: not me.