Thursday, May 12, 2005

April 18th: The Rapture Cometh

A wise man named Homer Simpson has warned us with a prophecy: next Wednesday at 3:15 we will experience The Rapture. Biblically, The Rapture is when God calls up to heaven anyone worthy of being there - the "good" souls float up toward the sky, and the unpure are left behind to live on a hellish Earth. If you are left behind (and chances are you will be, you lecherous pervert), you have only yourself to blame.

I am feeling optimistic about my standing since my sweet mechanic's skills have allowed me to roll back my sin-o-meter and fudge my heaven qualifications a little bit. The rest of you are on your own.

So, In preparation of being called up to The Big Cocktail Hour in The Sky, a list:

Things to do before I die.

1. Inflict a violent death upon my computer. Go all Office Space on its ass, because damn it feels good to be a gansta.

2. Learn what all the fuss is about Girl Scout cookies, ie: what the hell are thin mints?

3. Walk 1 kilometre in a pair of Jimmy Choos (preferably red, patent leather), then throw them out.

4. Learn all the lyrics to Rapper's Delight (i said a hip hop the hippie the hippie
to the hip hip hop, a you don't stop the rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat...) and then slither around on a kareoke stage in a skanky sequined top, just because.

5. Burn all my journals, and my bras.

6. Camp underneath the stars, contemplating life's greatest questions, such as who will pick Jason's bellybutton lint when I am gone.

7. Shave my head and get a cool tattoo on my scalp. Let my grandfather tease me about it.

8. Have a slumber party for all my girl friends. Watch Disney movies, dance to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack, pay each other sincere compliments, drink ourselves silly on cosmopolitans and daiquiris.

9. Have a barbecue for all my boy friends. Grill steaks, drink cold beers, and whoop all their asses at lawn darts.

10. Rent the use of a big well-stocked kitchen for 1 full day. Do my favourite things: chop veggies, flambe something, play with phillo pastry, make cheesecake, and freeze enough casseroles to ascertain Jason will be comforted and full. Drink lots of good wine, feed Jason fruit kebabs, and then have sex while sitting on the counter.

11. Finish my story, for peace of mind. Seal it in an envelope, and mail it to a fake address.

12. Plant a tree. Spit in the dirt where it grows to leave something of myself behind.

13. Write strongly worded letter to Student Loan people to the tune of "Haha you fuckers, just try to get a penny out of me now that I'm dead!"

14. Spend one night dancing in a club, by myself, to say thank you to my body for its usefulness. Request 'It's Not Right, But It's Okay' and dance on speakers for old times' sake.

15. Return to the strip of beach where I was married and enjoy the sunset with our toes in the ocean; tell Jason that even the bad times were good, that I've loved loving him, and that I'll visit him in hell if I get the chance.

16. Hug everyone I've cared for, goose a few when they're all weepy and touched.

17. Put some weed up where the sun don't shine so I can smuggle it into heaven.

18. Cut the electricity and read aloud to Jason by candlelight. - E. B. White's Stuart Little and Charlotte's Web. Hope to be remembered that way.


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