Son of a bitch. You know, I do this every year. I mark it on my calendar, I think about it before I go to sleep, I carve backwards-written reminders into my forehead so I can read them properly when I look in the mirror—“May 21 is the Rapture”, “Rapture – May 21”, “Rapture Day is THIS SATURDAY” — but I always fucking forget. Who knows why? Weird thing is, I always remember Armistice Day. Funny how some things just stick.
Some theologians speculate that during the Rapture God will only save the Sims.
In any case, here we are at the beginning of the end of days and I’m totally unprepared. I’m sure you are, too. For both of our sakes, I’ve jotted down a list of to dos that I’m going to try and complete before God’s divine hand lifts me up to the heavens. Hopefully it will be helpful for you, as well.
(Note: Some of these items will require me to bend space and time. I’m working on that.)
-Build time machine so I can fit in all my to-dos.
-Travel around the world by air balloon. (Alternate Option: To save time, travel around EPCOT Center on a Segway.)
-Produce, raise, and watch my children grow into the successful adults I knew they’d always become. I love you, kids.
-Learn the words to a church hymn. I’m going to need to know at least one once I get into Heaven.
-Enact A Christmas Carol-type situation on Lebron James, teaching him the error of his selfish, abandoning ways.
-Knock out an alien with a straight jab and say, “Welcome to Earf.”
-Meet Will Smith. See what he’s all about.
-Buy milk. We’re out.
-Write a one man show about my entire life’s story, hire a focus group, perform it for them, and find out whether total strangers from key demographics think my life was worth it.
-Convert to Christianity.
Everyone, please feel free to add to this list in the comments section. I may have forgotten a thing or two. Probably not, but it’s possible. Happy Rapture!
My name is t.j. and this might be the last blog in Poop or Chocolate history.
