Welp, here I am again, about to sit up all night wondering if my ass will be raptured. Again. Only this time, my preparations are Fine Tuned, thanks to the bullcrap May 21 Rapture date I prepared for so carefully, only to find that I still had to pay all my bills the next day. Bummer. This time, I tried to contact that holy person who discovered Jesus on a Walmart Receipt, figuring he/she/it would be able to give me some last-minute advice, but I’ve had no luck. I checked all the important, most likely places too. Shrines, churches and Ebay. Bummer.
Once again, we Yankees have the jump on you people in other time zones, assuming that the Rapture will occur during EST. This means that you heathens in California have three more hours of depravity and debauchery than we do. Nobody deserves those extra hours more than you do, let me tell you.
Again, since the hour is nearly upon me, I am writing really fast, because I want to make sure this post gets published under the wire before midnight, just in case my ass gets raptured at the stroke of midnight.
I am also all dressed in the same May 21 Rapture clothing, in case I fall asleep tonight and get raptured in the morning before I get a chance to get dressed. I did launder the clothing since May 21, though. I’ve always been conscious of looking right. I always get the sense that if I look too scruffy, my late mother will reach down and smack me upside the head, you know? As I discussed in my Rapture Preparatory Plan, I am dressed in warm clothing because it does get rather cold starting at about 15,000 feet and I hate being cold. The problem is, it’s hot as hell here, so I had to crank up the AC. Not that I care how much it costs, since I won’t have to pay the bill anyhow, right?
I also have my carry-on packed and am keeping it attached to my body, so if I get raptured, it will automatically come with me. Otherwise, having been swept right out of my shoes, I might not have time to grab my bag. I hate going anywhere without snacks and a bottle of water. I decided that, in addition to some easy to carry peanut butter crackers, I am bringing a couple of bananas and apples. Most of those church mooches I’ve known roundly reject fruit and vegetables, preferring greasy high-calorie treats, so I figure I won’t have to share with some lazy, unprepared sponger on the way up. And I can give the crackers to any babbling religious pontificators I run into to shut them up. Let’s face it, peanut butter is great for that.
I also packed a bottle of Pinot Noir. Okay, this time, I packed two bottles of Pinot Noir. I don’t figure they will let me into paradise with the wine, but I plan to finish it off before I get up there and drop the empty bottle. Hope I don’t hit anybody down here like I did last time. I also packed a brand new toothbrush and deodorant. Not sure if we will use that stuff up there, but I always pack those things.
I even put a bra on and I hate those damned things, but I didn’t want to Diss anybody at the Gates, you know? With my luck, I might get punished and have to spend eternity fighting off Jimmy Swaggert or that Crystal Cathedral huckster or something. I packed my hair blower too, don’t ask me why. I mean, I don’t even know if they have electricity up there. I mean, you can’t blow your hair with the power of some light Under a Bushel, as the saying goes. All I know is I’m gonna look like hell if I can’t blow my hair. And that’s another thing. If I’m going, my hair stylist better be going too. I don’t want to have to go looking for another one who pleases me. I hate when that happens.
Also, I have my ID in my carry-on (or “carry-up, as it were), in case I have to prove it’s really me. I wonder if I will need my passport? Anybody? I am bringing my long form birth certificate for sure, because I don’t want any COLB questions. I might have to come back down here to get the real thing and find out I can’t get back in either place, thereby spending eternity floating around in the sky with nothing but peanut butter crackers–until some lazy-assed, overpaid air traffic controller fails to stop me from crashing into some small aircraft. I don’t think I’ll be running into any TSA problems, since those perverts are mostly going to hell.
The rest of you should be looking for your Rapture Notice any time after midnight. It will look like this.
During this second Rapture Run, I decided to also rethink who I would like to meet up there and hang out with. I mean, besides my family members, whom I miss terribly. Except for that one Aunt, but I really don’t think she’s up there anyways.
I haven’t changed my mind since the last Rapture. I continue to choose Gilda Radner as the one famous person I would like to hang out with Up There. Like I said during the Last Rapture, I’m not usually affected by the death of someone famous, but I was really concurrently bummed out and freaked out when Gilda died. I would definitely share my apples and bananas with that gal.
I still wouldn’t mind rubbing up against Patrick Swayze and having some of that dirty dancing with him either, but, as Gilda used to say: Nevermind. Still, I’d like to have The Time Of My Life too. And while I’m there, I do hope Kate Hepburn gives me the time of day as well. These are people I would far rather hang out with than that Harold Camping freak who made $80,000,000 on the May 21 prediction and is probably making another 80 right now. This Rapturing stuff is very lucrative. Who says there isn’t a sucker born every minute? Not Harold! But he won’t be up there anyways. The scary part is he would still be down here with the rest of us.
Okay, so now I’m going to stare at the wall and wait just like millions of crazy religious crackpots are doing right now. However, I just want to say that, in the event I get yanked right out of my running shoes, I bequeath my dog to NES and UTAH, with joint custody. This is so NES can spoil the crap out of her for half the year, and then UTAH can recycle her and get her properly trained again. And since she loves snow, UTAH gets her in the winter. NES, you should be reminded not to use my dog as a babe magnet.
I bequeath Bill to the whole lot of you, because it’s going to take all of you to deal with him. And you deserve him. Heh.
So how about you? Are you ready to Rock and Rapture?
More on Gilda. If you didn’t click on these links last time, you are truly despicable and should do it right now.
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