I can’t wait for the end of the world. Here are the things to look forward to:
- No more church. Things will be all crazy and so they’ll let you have sacrament meeting at home. When a testimony goes on a tangent, I’ll be able to say, “Stop saying crazy things, kid,” and my kid will get back to bearing a normal testimony. As it is now, I’ve heard testimonies of travel, testimonies of ancestry, and even testimonies of KU sports victories.
- No more work. Everyone will be cowering in his bunker, so I won’t have stupid coworkers anymore. Aside from those who’ve appeared on this blog before, such as Tito or The Friendly Jerk (whose search for a second job is really beginning to bug me), I work with a ton of other losers. One could be called Slobby McNicotine, who decided long ago with no malice aforethought that I deserved no respect. He talks overtop of me, doesn’t listen when I talk to him, and leaves meetings when it’s my turn to present. I don’t think he hates me; he just thinks, “Well, the meeting’s over now.” He will speculate for hours about something he doesn’t know, and ignore all my efforts to tell him the answer. This extends to sports, where he roots against Pittsburgh in all sports without realizing it’s because I’m a Pittsburgh fan.
- No more traffic. I walked down the block today with a coworker. At the corner was some large construction equipment that was moving through an intersection against the signal. Several cars from the other direction were stopped, even though the light was green. The driver three cars back from the intersection started honking and swearing at the driver in front of him for not moving. The piece of equipment in the intersection was enormous; there was no way he couldn’t see it.
- No more crowds. When my coworker and I finally made it across the intersection to The Cheese Shoppe (which floats persistent rumors of its imminent closure, yet remains open), the place was filled with stinky bums. “It’s called Speed Stick / It’s not expensive.” The last time I was associated with a crowd that wasn’t an embarrassment was when Ronald Reagan died and I went to the casket viewing at his library. Every other time someone is either drunk, immature, stinky, or vulgar.
On the other side of the coin, there’s the fact that I’m probably first on God’s list of people to kill when the world ends.
The start of the actual ending of the world will be when a Massey-Ferguson combine falls through the roof and lands directly on my head. When you see that happen, you know the sweet life is right around the corner.