If reincarnation were real, I wouldn’t mind coming back as an old school painter like Mr. Kartashov. A little landscape here, a little nude there, lots of wine, cheap rent in the gardener’s house of some European stone villa. Sadly, if reincarnation is real, I will be coming back as something that lives under the gardener’s house, like a dirt bacterium with a taste for bunny turds. Shoulda picked up that hitchhiker dressed like Jesus. I could tell he didn’t like the Miracle Whip joke.