Thursday, December 20, 2012

It's The End Of The World As We Know It

And I feel fine.  Ok, I haven’t been sleeping well lately, but I’m sure that has nothing to do with the upcoming Armageddon.

I’m posting this early because, well – tomorrow is the end of the world – or not.  

Therefore, I really just wanted to make sure I got a chance to say thanks for reading – before you had to hang on to pieces of your furniture as drift wood floats after the tides reversed and made beach houses out of all our homes.  Hey, it could be a neat thing, if you’ve ever dreamed for a house on the water, near the water, in the water, whatever, this is your chance!

Not sure what to expect here, we have our food stash in the basement – otherwise known as a normal pantry, a few gallons of water for the dog and enough wine, beer and liquor to dull any pain.  I think we’re good.  

The only problem is, I was really looking forward to just sitting on the couch, hanging with the hubby and the dog, glancing out the picture window watching as the apocalypse was taking place outside, but you see, we will be traveling again this year for the holidays.   

This could be good or bad, depending on how much gas the plane has and what atmospheric changes take place as the world flips direction and the plane tries to stay in the air. Ok, those two things and the seven headed beast, can’t forget him – if one of his giant necks has a reach of 30,000 feet or more, we could be in trouble.

Or - we could just fly right over the total chaos; we are going to be in the air for like seven hours. The disaster could be done by the time we are supposed to land, all the pilot would need to do is find a strip of land big enough put her down and we could start our holidays a fresh right then and there.

Remind me to pack a few extra snacks, and a pair of wellies, I don’t like to be hungry or wet…. And it might be a while before we find an open restaurant, although restaurants were the first businesses to open back up in New Orleans after Katrina – that was pretty post apocalyptic if I might say so.

Oh, don’t even think about looting our joint – you know we do have that vicious 14 year old dog the mailman is scared of and a house sitter – who is, well, really nice.  I suppose if you need some pain killer, she could offer up a bottle or two to ease your suffering, just take it back up to your boat – I mean house, to administer, we aren't volunteering her to be your nurse!
See you on the other side!