That actually wasn’t so bad, that rapture. What WAS bad was the people in the daycare showing me the black eye on the kid that my kid bit this morning and me missing an important business call from Germany because of it. Now, I’m feeling like a bad business partner, and like I’m directly responsible for this strange looking one year olds black eye, and in a very real way, I guess I am. I produced a beast. Also, I’m listening to TV on the Radio like I’m some dipshit that drinks manhattans and reads spin while wearing stripedy sweaters, and you wanna know the worst part? I’m kind of liking it. That song DTZ is pretty awesome. The rapture has taken quite a toll. Jerry Falwell was right. I feel like everything is topsy turvy.
What’s going on out there? Joblessness is at an all time high in the US. Artie Lange tried to kill himself and it sounds very gruesome and sad. Fred Phelps has his sights on Lady Gaga. Uh, some girl that was dating Tila Tequila died. Jersey Shore is getting renewed. This is the end of times, people. Really. I’m gonna get a sandwich board and go stand on the corner and tell motherfuckers to start kissing each other’s asses goodbye, because frankly, well…it’s a better job than the one I’ve got now. Work outside, meet people, make your own hours, you can have your dick hanging out if you want to. It’s cool. AND, it’s a valuable public service. People need that kick in the balls on the way to work so they can sit there at TGIFridays, over their 550 calorie steaks and say “didja see that poor bastard with his dick out by the North/Clybourn stop with the sandwich board that said ‘kiss each other’s asses goodbye, motherfuckers, because the end is nigh’? What a nut! Hooo. Takes all kinds, I guess. (to disgruntled waitress) Hey sweetie, how bout another Rum Runner?”
A little old fashioned heralding of the end makes everyone feel like they’re not the craziest bastard out there. AND, when the end doesn’t come, as, well, it hasn’t, then suddenly everyone gets yet another reason to feel superior. And they kind of pity you. That’s why you never set a date for these things, fellow heralders of doom, because then, once that day comes and goes, no matter what happens, you’re out of a job and you’re just like the rest of the dipshits out there, worrying about how the fuck you’re gonna pay the bills, continue to socialize in your circle, keep your kid in that daycare with all the other delicious kids. It’s a fucking ratrace, I tell you, and no one is safe.
Fuck. Germany is calling me back. I’ve got to go. Have a great weekend and say hi to your mom for me. HA! I kill me.
Okay, bye. I didn’t even get to what I wanted to talk about today, which is a bummer. Oh well, see you Monday.