I have an event I want to relate to the masses (or to the three people I threaten with physical violence if they don't read my blog). It has to do with the end of the world as we know it. Kinda heavy stuff, so lets be appropriately prepared. Here is a picture to help us get acquainted with the themes we are addressing:
Just take a deep breath. We can get through this. OR CAN WE?
Melodrama aside, the other night I couldn't sleep. No big shocker there. I decided to read in our guest room so as to not keep AM up with the light and my incessant shifting. eventually around 4 in the morning I fell into a fitful sleep with the birds already chirping excitedly about building nests and other stupid bird discussion topics (the use of firearms against local fauna is a subject for another post). I drifted off into the land of nod...
AND THEN I THOUGHT I WAS DYING! I woke up suddenly to the sensation of the bed shaking and the noise of the house creaking. Only halfway cognizant of what the hell was happening I of course assumed the worse. It was an earthquake and not only that, it was probably the "big one" everyone on the west coast has been discussing for the last 50 years. My life was ending, the world was ending, I had a few minutes left to review the meaning of my short life. In the movies the protagonist gets to relive the more important events since their childhood to now, gain perspective and usually realize some universal truth about the purpose of our being here. They pass with peace and or make it through the fatal shooting against all
medical odds and lead a fuller, more self-actualized life. As the bed shook I waited for this really awesome moment. This is how it went down:
"oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! shitfuckcrapmonkeyballsassmochashit!!!!! I'm dying! Where's my great epiphany?!"
Seriously, all I could think was "oh shit" over and over again. And then I realized the neighbors were doing an early load of laundry and their washing machine was off balance, so when it gets to the spin cycle it rocks the whole house. Apparently, this is particularly felt in our guest bedroom.
I am now left knowing in my dying moments the best I will probably come up with is a strained expression of fear and self-loathing on my face and expletives on my lips. Super excited about that...
At least I didn't poop in my pajamas. "yeah, I have an order of suck with extra embarrassment and a large drink flavored with my own excrement. Thanks."
Said in that weird, murky, drive through voice, "that'll be your life savings at the first window. Would you like mild, medium or hot sauce with that?"
Sometimes I think it would be beneficial if I weren't so retarded. Maybe.
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