Tonight We Gonna Rapture Like Its 1999!!!

Tomorrow night, 18:00 EST (and you have to love not only that the bible can predict the rapture’s exact date, but it is time-zone specific as well, centered on a time zone that at the time of bible writing, no one in Europe or the Middle East even knew fucking existed!), I am on my way to Heaven for the rest of eternity. All of you Jews, Native Americans, Atheists, Hippies, Catholics, Gays, Cats, Dogs, Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, non-evangelical do-gooders, Democrats, Progressives, Mexicans, Blacks, Puerto Ricans, and especially you goddamned Muslims, can collectively kiss my hairy fucking beanbag. I’m off to Heaven like a fat girl to Shoney’s. And tonight we doin’ it, and we doin’ it big! We are going to nail so much evangelical box shut that we’re gonna have to join the gravedigger’s guild. I’m talking crazy Jonas Brother’s ass. I’m a bit new to this party game, given I’ve spent most of my life in either my parent’s basement or at the Moody Bible Church, but I’ve got every detail taken care of. I’ve got every horse carriage in Chicago rented out for transportation. We’re starting out with reso’s at Pizzeria Mutherfucking Uno! Sorry, but Cheesecake factory was too full. Apparently a tour bus full of senior citizens from Iowa have 80% of the joint taken already. Fuck ‘em, we’ve got 2 pitchers of Bud Light draft beer for each table of 12 people, two extra large meat lover’s, and bottomless glasses of Pepsi. After we’re done closing Pizzeria Uno down (actually we can’t close it down, the North Chicago Youth Soccer League champions have reserved after us, so we need to be cleared out by 7:30), we’re off to Joe’s on Weed Street. I’ve heard this is where hardcore Chicagoans go when they want to get down. I’ve got an entire corner blocked off with balloons, crosses, Jesus Christ blow up dolls, boat loads of party hats, about a thousand cupcakes, and of course novelty bibles. And don’t worry, we also have an all-you-can-drink Bud Light deal as well. Unless of course you are a sinful alcoholic and can drink more than 2 Bud Lights, because that is the limit per person. I’m sure as our party gains steam, other people in the bar will be begging to jump over the construction paper streamers which Shelly so Christfully made to block off our corner. So long as they have their own 2-per-person Bud Light deal in place as well, it is alllllll goooood. And just in case they’ve got this thing pegged one day late, everyone better wear purple Nikes and a track suit, just to be safe. You’re all on your own for the after-party. I need to get home and log into my World of Warcraft game. I have not been able to determine if post-Rapture Heaven will have internet access, and if they do, if it will be dial-up or high speed.

Bad boys, bad boys…what’cha gonna do? What’cha gonna do when the Rapture comes for you?

P.S. SPEC is going to be there, with fucking bells on.

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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