Monday, June 6, 2011

Back from the Rapture!

This is NOT what it looks like.
Hey guys! Long time no see! You won't believe where I've been the past few weeks! For once, I actually have a legitimate excuse for not updating.

I know this is going to sound crazy, but the Rapture actually happened, guys! Back on May 21st, just like that Harold Camping guy predicted! I'm not sure what that 'family' radio stuff is all about, but I've totally been to that heaven everyone's always talking about.

And I've gotta tell you, totally overrated.

Sure, you'd think, "Man, it's heaven! Clouds and stuff everywhere! This is totally friggin' sweet!" But you'd be wrong. Dead wrong. So dead wrong that you don't even have to die to go there, or even come back here - but I'll get to my unrapturing later.

I guess the first thing you're probably dying to hear is what heaven's like. It's okay, I guess, but only if you like the stuff that's there. If you don't, well - have you ever listened to someone talking about their latest golf game, but you don't care about golf and start to feel that if you hear them make one more 'birdie' joke, you're going to break their kneecaps and fashion them into stylish elbow pads as a warning to your enemies? It's basically like that constantly. And I'm not just talking about the droning noise the big guy makes whenever he starts talking - he almost makes the adults on the old Charlie Brown cartoons seem comprehensible - you have to really take the entirety of the concept of annoyance to this degree and stretch that and apply it to every aspect of existence imaginable. If you can do that, you can imagine what heaven is like. Not so cool now, is it? Unless you like golf stories, in which case, get out.

Anyway, there's clouds everywhere. Just like you'd expect. And there's solid ground, too - not on the clouds, though. There's guard rails and warning signs everywhere because if you step out onto the clouds, you're just going to fall through them to your death. I'm not sure what exactly is down there to fall to, but the clouds are made of cotton candy, and I'm pretty sure Earth's clouds aren't - science and all that - so maybe it's another planet. A stupider planet. Sure, cotton candy clouds sound pretty fun on the surface, but do you really want the sky to be full of spun sugar? That just makes everything uncomfortably sticky. Also, there's no dentists in heaven but your teeth still decay. There's no toothbrushes, toothpaste, or even running water. What the hell is up with that?

You're probably wondering, too, "How the hell did you get into heaven?" Man, I can't even tell you. Literally, I can't. I don't know. I'm not sure what the criteria are, but I can tell you for a fact that it's not something you want to do. Just meeting whatever requirements there are to be hurled heavenward made me want to completely change the way I live my life as so to ensure that whatever those requirements are, I can be certain that I will never meet them again. I was one of maybe three or four people who got picked up this time, anyway, so obviously not very many people qualified for this Rapture. There were some other people there too, but they couldn't have numbered more than sixteen or seventeen. I'm honestly surprised there were even that many - there's no upside to dealing with everything there.

I mean, sure, the big guy built a game room at some point, but even that pretty much sucked. They had a foosball table and a pinball table from the '70s, but only one of the flippers still worked. Also, someone apparently lost the air hockey table's puck a few years ago so it was worthless. I mean, if you're not even going to replace the puck, what's the point? There's nothing to do. Except maybe collect hair. The big guy doesn't like to shave, and his son isn't much better. Those dicks just shed all over everything, and apparently neither of them have heard of a fricking push broom. That's just unsanitary.

I had to get out of there - I wouldn't be here typing this if I hadn't succeeded either, obviously. But yeah, I basically just shoved the others around until the big guy threw me back to earth. Some people here have told me I was hit by a car.

Twenty cars.

All the cars.

I guess the real lesson here is that that Harold Camping Guy was both more right and wrong than he knows. Also, in case you're at risk of Rapture, maybe try carrying around a spare air hockey puck in your pocket, just to be considerate.

Then again, those guys are jerks. Keep my foolproof unrapturing method in mind. Unless you don't have arms.

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