Nurse the Hate: Hate the End of the World

The good news is that Rapture is supposed to happen this Saturday. The bad news is that I just don't have a thing to wear! This thing really crept up on me. For those of you not in the know, kooky Christian radio host Harold Camping says rapture will take place on May 21st. For the uninitiated, that means that people that have earned a place in the inner circle (with generous monetary donations to Harold Camping no doubt) will shed their physical bodies and be transported into eternal bliss. Camping says 200 million people or 3% of the World's population will be raptured, leaving folks like you and definitely me on the "outside looking in". We'll be left with a period of time in which I would imagine the term "lawless" will have a new meaning. The true end of the world will occur 5 months later, on Oct 21st. This will be especially inconvenient as it is in the middle of football season, and the Daredevils already have gigs booked on Halloween weekend.

I suppose the move is to really play it safe and have your bases covered on this thing. For me, this means I will be withdrawing all of my 401k money tomorrow afternoon and buying a staggering amount of legal and illegal intoxicants, some heavy weapons for that nasty five month End of the World panic, and the finest cases of Bordeaux and Burgundy I can find on short notice. As we are going to be looking at "Drink Now" vintages of Bordeaux, I think I will concentrate on the 1982, 1989, 1990, and probably some select 1995s. I'll take whatever good Burgundy I can find. I suppose one can't be too picky when it is the actual End of the World and all.

After I see some folks actually rising up to the heavens, I will immediately go into "satisfy all urges" mode. This will probably become very unpleasant to certain people around me, especially those unarmed and unwilling to become involved in deviant sexual scenarios I construct while under the influence of elephant tranquilizers and gorilla testosterone. Since all of us left are the ones not invited to the Big Afterlife Party, we better live it up for the next five months, you know what I am saying? Loosen up a little. I'm not that unattractive, am I? Ladies, who do you ultimately want to spend End Times with, some dude freaking out with no good wine or a man with a stockpile of the only things that matter (i.e. Guns, Liquor, and Ideas)? I'm starting to look better all the time, aren't I?

Now I must stress if I go into this Party Like A Mad Ape mode and this thing doesn't go off, there are going to be plenty of apologies I am going to have to make. "I am so sorry I tried to make you have a three way with me and a mountain goat at gunpoint. Look, I thought it was the end of the world, and I saw the goat over there and thought, you know, if I don't do this thing now, how am I ever going to know what that was like... I know, I know... I shouldn't have laughed when you were crying and pleading, but I thought, "if you just go with it" you'd like it. Boy, do I look back at this weekend with some regrets... Well, anyway, this is very uncomfortable for all of us. Please accept this bundt cake and I just want to say I am really sincerely sorry, and hope we can still be good neighbors!"

Now if I do get in, which is looking very good thanks to the generous check I just sent to my new good friend Harold Camping, I expect to be enjoying some very serious Raptacular Good Times this weekend. I have always believed that in heaven you get your dogs back, so I'll be giving a few of my old bassets a walk along a stretch of road that looks like Northern California in my own personal heaven dream I have every week or so. There's a nice breeze and everything is the way it should be there. Heaven must be pretty cool, no? Lots of good restaurants with open tables I'll bet. I would think heaven has some pretty good bands too, although I do have some concerns that the acts that do well up there tend to skew Christian rock. I can probably pretend I am into Stryper and Reliant K. Why make waves?

Still, I have some concerns about this weekend. It's really about my own competitive nature. I have to say that if this thing goes off as scheduled, and I see certain people lifted to the heavens while I'm left behind, I will be bummed. For example, won't you be pissed if you are at a party on Saturday and everyone but you and the host's creepy Brother-In-Law are gone? You'll be standing there with a bunch of empty clothes going, "So, what was your name again? Jim? You just got out of jail again, right? Well with everyone else gone, you want to take Steve's Jaguar and go out for some chicken? The keys are probably in the pockets over there. No, no it's OK. Take his wallet too. I don't think it's considered stealing anymore. Look man, what's the difference now? You're out of the game!"

I will definitely call everyone I know and find out who got the call to The Show. I'll be sitting on my deck drinking my fancy wine, all pissed off, talking on my cell. "I can't believe Suzy got in. Seriously. Did I ever tell you what she did at Prom? How do you Hail Mary that kinda shit away? And don't even get me started about Kurt. Dude had six DUIs, and he got in? What did I do wrong? I never broke six of the ten commandments, and let's face it, one of the four I did break could have gone either way in a court of law. This is just total bullshit man. Hey, you want to come over? I got a case of 1995 Chateau Lafite and a mountain goat."