The world is still here

Well, Saturday came and went, and to the surprise of many, the day was Rapture-free. There were no signs of the apocalypse, no humans drifting up towards the sky, and really no abnormal activity of any significance whatsoever. It was as normal a day as there has ever been in the history of the world. If not more so.

I know, it should come as a shock. All you Christian zealout freaks out there must be extremely disappointed. After so prominently standing by this prediction that never came to fruition, I don’t know how you’ll ever be able to be looked at as normal, sane, functioning people ever again. It must be very difficult for you all.

I personally was fairly surprised. I was standing on my lawn, arms raised to the Heavens while wearing a tie-dye shirt and bandanna screaming, “TAKE ME GOD! I AM READY TO BE RAPTURED!” into a megaphone. Although, that is usually how I spend all of my Saturdays.

Actually, rumor has it that God had stood at the edge of clouds, was ready to embark on the Rapture, when he was interrupted. Out of nowhere came a man who had recently died and stopped God from completing his task! Who was this man?

Let me show you:


Thanks Randy. We owe you one.

However, for around 100 people down south, the world really did come to an end on Saturday. Tornadoes ravaged the southern portion of Missouri, destroying homes, schools, hospitals and other buildings while killing over 100 people.

All I know is, if living in New York my entire life has made me grateful for anything, it’s the fact that we live nowhere near tornadoes. I can’t even begin to imagine how I would react if I was sitting outside in lawn chair wearing a wife beater and guzzling a Budweiser (that’s what people in the south do, right?) when all of a sudden in the distance I see a fucking tornado swirling from the skies. I would probably shit my pants.

I can accept the frosty winters, rush hour traffic and the mere existence of Staten Island if it means that a tornado will never come into our midst.

So, yeah, while idiots were sitting around on Saturday, holding hands, chanting and awaiting the Rapture, people in other parts of the world were running for life, just trying to survive while also saving their loved ones. And unfortunately, some unlucky ones didn’t. It really makes our country look pretty shameful when we could become infatuated with a foolish, senile prediction from a radio host so much that it distracts us from other things that are really happening in the world. It’s basically what I was alluding to on my last post, I just wasn’t hoping that a deadly tornado would be the thing that would prove my point.

Here’s an idea; how about we trade the 116 people who have so far been confirmed dead from the tornadoes with 116 people who actually believed the Rapture was going to happen? Deal? Deal.

So, anyway, I went golfing for the first time in a couple of years on Sunday. Golf is really the one sport where, no matter how athletic you are, you are 100% guaranteed to suck at during the first several times that you play. And probably much longer than that. If not forever.

When I’m golfing, I’m extremely content if I hit a shot that is playable. Meaning that, following the shot, I actually know where the ball went, and I have an opportunity to hit it again. Driving a ball accurately and powerfully with a golf club is one of the hardest tasks one could possibly attempt. While you most likely will have had one or two shots that you will be extremely proud of by the end of the day, you’re almost guaranteed to end a golf outing hating yourself and hating life. It’s the sport version of ‘FML.”

And yet, some time soon, you’ll be back out there. As one friend promptly put it, “whoever invented golf must be a sadist.”

Well, here we are again. It’s Monday, it’s the start of a new week, and it’s still raining. But, on this Monday, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Thanks to Memorial Day, a three-day weekend is on the horizon. It really doesn’t get much better than three-day weekends.

Actually, I can think of one thing that is better than a three-day weekend… a FOUR day weekend. Guess who’s calling in sick on Friday?? THIS GUY.

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