All
the Mayans in the underworld must be laughing their asses off.
There's
nothing like kissing your own sweet ass goodbye …
only to turn around and
kiss it hello again. Neither your lips nor your ass knows whether
you're going, or coming.
So,
was that
it? The End of Days?
To
tell you the truth, I hardly even noticed, other than the lights
flickering a couple of times.
The
flickering was enough to attract the family's attention.
"Will
the power go out tonight?" they asked me.
To
which I replied, "It's actually lights-out
for all of us tonight, guys.
Curtains. We shall be no more …
at
least that's what I've heard."
Our
oldest was the first to speak. "So …
that means no more school?"
"Nope,"
I said. "No more nuthin'."
"Yeah!
Yay! Awesome!" the room erupted in celebration. "Dude!"
Eventually,
things quieted down.
"Alright,"
the oldest came at me again. "So, you're sure, right Dad?"
I
nodded my head affirmatively, whilst the mother of my children rolled
her eyes.
"Damnit!"
our youngest piped up. "That figures …
we're already on Christmas vacation. What a frigging waste!"
Imagine
our disappointment, upon waking the next day, to a post apocalyptical
world that's completely indiscernible from the one we said goodbye to
just the night before.
You
call that
an Apocalypse? Boy, the End of Days ain't what it used to be.
Here
I was, with retirement finally within my grasp, only to have it all
disappear like a desert mirage—with no hope to recover it, until
the next End of the World mania hits, and the crazies are again, off
and running.
Come
to think of it, how far off could that possibly be? Good chance
happy days will be here again soon!
We're
really going to need more of a show the next time—more
fireworks—more brimstone. Would it kill The Four Horsemen to make
an appearance? And I'm talking about Famine, Pestilence, War, and
Death—not High Fructose Corn Syrup, No Cell Service, Free Lunches,
and Teen Sexting (the new-age Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse).
You
see, I'm a sucker for the classics.
At
least we already have "Sympathy for the Devil" … and of
course, the Anti-Christ is on the scene. And succeeding mightily.
One
has to give credit where credit is due.
What
I want to know is, did the Mayans accurately predict the end of their
civilization? Probably not? Well maybe that should have been a sign
that they should keep their goddamned calendar to themselves. Who
asked them, anyways?
How
could anybody think an ancient civilization like theirs could
possibly have foretold our future? What, because
they could pile up stones in pyramid shapes, and cut the
still-beating hearts out of their human sacrifices and show them to
them? That's the kind of resume people put their faith in these
days? Isn't that kind of a stretch?
Who
has that kind of imagination?
Who
has that kind of weed?
Well,
a giant hemp asteroid must have have burned up in our atmosphere,
because a good number of Earth's best and brightest reportedly found
the inspiration to freak
out—or
at least act out.
Beaucoup
sorries to the the credit card company, the bank, the tax collector,
and to the cops; no doubt, there's some real messes out there that
their creators weren't planning to ever have to clean up.
The
impending end of the word must have provided just the excuse for some
to take that vacation, drive that slick black Lamborghini off the lot
like they stole it, and party with hookers and coke like they're
Charlie Sheen. Sorry, suckers! Looks like you'll have to pay the
piper this time!
You're
not Charlie Sheen.
You
know, most non-idiots would approach the end of the world as kind of
an unlucky thing. But for such an unlucky event, I bet there was a
lot of good luck
to be had on it's eve. As in, getting
lucky.
Imagine
the pick-up lines unleashed upon the girls of the world:
"Come
on baby ... I know I got no job, no car, and no looks ... but hey—the
world ends tonight! What do you have to lose?"
"You
don't want to die a virgin, do you?" "Well, you don't want
me to, do you?"
I
bet a good many of the believers got so lucky with these lames-ass
lines, there was no need to bother with little things like
contraception and disclosure of any petri dish pee pee problems.
So
you know what that means: expect a stupid person baby boom! And a
STD Tsunami! As if we needed another one of either of those …
And
think of all the other shit they pulled, attempting to live the last
moments of their miserable lives to the fullest. Yeah, those aren't
going anywhere either. They must have needed to build new server
farms just to hold the zigabytes of scandalous new video and images
being put up on the web as I write.
"It's
okay if I take some pictures, right honey? No one's going to be
around to see them anyway."
Also,
do not forget that, like many of those making their End of the World
film debuts, Christmas …
is coming.
Nobody
expecting the world to end before Christmas would have been
particularly dedicated in their gift procurement efforts (unless
they're apocalyptical hypocrites). So expect a mad-ass shopping rush
too, these last days before the big day.
And
then, the bills will come due. Ah, the
traditional holiday binge-spending financial Apocalypse is
on the way.
Here's
a hot tip on the real end of the world: it's going to come when we
least expect it. The universe doesn't give you a chance to party
before it comes for you. And as I heard the late great George Carlin
say, the planet is going to be fine. It's us—the
people—that will be
going away.
That's
my forecast. No, I'm not even Mayan. And I'm not even ancient (I
know that's relative).
And
as one who's probably headed straight to Hell, I'm certainly in no
rush to bring on the final judgment. If it's not going to be a
pretty girl(s) doing the Rapturing on me, I think I'll step out of
line now, if I can.
Check,
please.
-Harlowe
Pilgrim
PS.
Wouldn't it be a bitch for my smug ass if the Mayans were just off by
a couple of days, or weeks, or months?
Copyright 2012 Cock and Bull
Publishing, LLC
Harlowe Pilgrim’s books are available at Amazon, iBooks, Smashwords.com, Books-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.
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Follow on Twitter @ https://twitter.com/HarlowePilgrim
