Thursday, May 19, 2011

Fitting it all in before the Armageddon

Wii Swordplay is not only the best game since Donkey Kong, it's also the most fun thing to say with a straight face as an adult.

Being this awesome at Swordplay is how dudes must feel when they get rich while banging chicks on The Real World and then get their teeth bleached. (Why did this show turn from a '90s depressed melodrama to a casting tractor beam for the really hot girl in the retarded class who wasn't quite all-the-way retarded and but was all-the-way built like a 23-year-old underwear model?) The point is I got game. And the other point is that my abs are fantastic.

So, anyway, I've been loafing. I'm still working full time, but my semester ended a few weeks ago, and I've been dreamily tooling around with a few essays and generally being a spoiled writer with lots of time to dream instead of a neurotic writer who can't sleep because of all the writing she is thinking about and doing. And, when did spring happen?! As soon as I get out of work, I just want to play in the backyard and enjoy God's favorite season unironically.

And now I'm refreshed and ready to make you all think I've accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. As you roll your eyes and turn toward your devil-loving and false-prophet following, remind yourselves who will be the one laughing on Saturday when the world ends. God will be.

Some guy nobody except God and some cult-followers cares about says the world is going to end Saturday, May 21, so I've prepared myself by sewing on a new hymen for revirginification and making a detachable foreskin for PHubby in case God's into gentiles.

Then I wrote a list of things God might like and started checking off the items. I read my Bible literally and then I ironed my linen napkins and douched my cat's vagina with lavender water.

Those of us who get taken to heaven promise not to judge you while we're having an orgy with the big guy and each other. We would never do that. We're not perfect, we're just forgiven, as the bumper sticker of my best friend's nemesis says.

And by "we," we don't mean to include "you." In case you were wondering.

I'm saved! Bring on the Armageddon!

Coming soon: A practical guide to flora: a comprehensive list of scientific names of plants that smell like semen and other quality content. I'll try to squeeze it in before Saturday for you last-minute repenters.