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Earth. Everything must go!!

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And if California slides into the ocean
Like the mystics and statistics say it will
I predict this motel will be standing until I pay my bill
      Warren Zevon – Desperados Under the Eaves

The world is supposed to end on Saturday, May 21, 2011 and I hate when they do this on a weekend.

World ends on a Tuesday, I’m much more inclined to deal with it. Middle of the week, you might catch me off-guard. Judgment Day? Sure, whatever you want to do. By Friday night, hey, that’s my time.

Does anybody know what time on Saturday? What do you think? Pirates of the Caribbean matinee, forget the evening show? Clearly I’m not taking this seriously enough. Ashton Kutcher is stocking up on supplies so maybe we all should too.


They say a fecal storm of loco proportions will throw down at 6pm across the globe: huge earthquakes in the Pacific Rim, hellish storms and birds falling from the sky — like that stuff could ever happen! Wherever you are at 1800hrs, fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night.

As the story goes … the Bible predicts Judgment Day is Saturday, but only if you’re reading it under a crescent moon and facing a dead rooster at a 45-degree angle. Hold on, wrong Bible.

People have quit jobs, left school, given up everything to spend their final weeks with friends and family, plus get the word out about the End of Days. Some are arranging to have their dogs and cats looked after once they ascend, which is a nice way of saying even the believers think pets are atheists. I thought All Dogs Go to Heaven? Why not kill the tooth fairy while you’re at it?

“We budgeted everything so that, on May 21, we won’t have anything left,” one woman said.” And she’s buying a stairway to heaven. Ooh, it makes me wonder.

For their sake, I hope they’re right — and this is not just some way to make money selling “May 21, 2011″ T-shirts and hoodies. For the rest of us, I know a great place for brunch on Sunday.

So let me get this straight. You ascend to Heaven but never get to see The Hangover Part II? That’s doesn’t seem very Christian.

This is hardly the first Doomsday prediction and why are they always made by people you’d never want to drive across the country with?

Today’s contestant is Christian radio host Harold Camping, who says in no uncertain terms, Christ has arranged a party bus to Heaven for 200 million of his closest friends — and there’s still room, if you act now. The bus is fueled up, packed with delicious refreshments and this looks to be the ultimate pub crawl, that probably won’t actually stop at any pubs. Miss it and, well, to hell with you. No seriously, you’ve got five months. Zombies, pestilence, the whole deal. Plus no Oprah. Good luck, suckers.

I assume there’s room for all of us at God’s crib? We’re not bringing any stuff but still, He’s got enough space so that 3% of the world’s population can crash at His place, until all this sorts out? The floor’s fine, I’d imagine it’s very soft. I would just need a toothbrush and maybe get a prescription filled.

I won’t lie, I understand these are important days. The new Journey CD comes out Tuesday. The main reason I don’t believe the world will end on Saturday is because I have a utility bill due Monday and on Tuesday I guarantee they’ll remember where I live.

It’s said that — because of mankind’s sin — the 97% of us who thought for sure this Saturday thing was bullshit, have 153 days before God annihilates the planet on October 21, 2011. Actually “annihilate” is the wrong word. Earth will be imploded like a worn-out Vegas casino and rebuilt as the hottest spot on the Strip, as soon as the economy rebounds and the project gains backing.

Camping, the president of Family Radio, a California-based religious broadcasting network, originally predicted the world would end in September 1994. The Major League Baseball season had been canceled; O.J. Simpson was at the height of his white Ford Bronco guiltiest, and; in London, Ontario, a young Pattie Mallette gave birth to Justin Bieber. Sounds a lot like Camping was on to something.

To the best of my knowledge, the world did not end in September 1994. Claiming a mathematical error, Camping went back to the abaci and returned with May 21, 2011 — and this time, he says, he’s super cereal. At 89, he better be because this is likely his last mulligan.

To read the pamphlet (I didn’t read the pamphlet), is to see the finer detail in the thread. “Those who will experience the most anguish and pain of being left behind are the 2 billion people who are still a part of the churches and congregations throughout the world on that day … They have ignored God’s command.” This isn’t about the rest of us hoarding latex products and inflatable companionship, it’s the regulars who aren’t taking this as seriously in the wake of, well, thousands of factors. “God will condemn those who are left behind.” Kind of a heavy pitch.

My question is, if the world is truly ending and your goal is to alert people to this — let’s be honest — would you be approaching random people you find on the street? Or would you be handing out pamphlets along the runway of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show? One for you, one for you, one for you and one for you. This is Noah’s Ark time: take two of everything.

I should probably admit, all I really know about the rapture is: you go out to the parking lot, you get in your car and drive real far and you drive all night, then you see a light. Then a man from Mars eats your brain. White rappers, the first sign of the end.

I’m sure Bobby Bonilla hopes this is a joke. Starting on July 1, the New York Mets will begin paying the former slugger $1.19 million per year over the next 25 years as a result of an agreement they made after the 1999 season. Rather than pay the final $5.9 million on his contract, they deferred the amount until 2011, with the money compounding 8% interest per year along the way. Bonilla is already drawing about $500,000 per year until 2015 from the Baltimore Orioles under a similar agreement and for this reason only, I pray the rapture is true.

And if it is, you still have to eat. From Rob Kutner, writer for TBS’ Conan and the author of the satirical end-of-times bestseller Apocalypse How: Turn the End Times into the Best of Times! — a hilarious excerpt from the meal planner … The Diet After: Ten Recipes For the End of the World.

Suggestions? What to do? Loot. Most definitely loot. Start with electronics but move quickly to canned goods and incandescent light bulbs (which will be used as currency next year regardless of this or the Mayan Calendar’s prediction).

Order magazine subscriptions but check “bill me” just in case. Tell everyone you’re hosting a really, really awesome Halloween party and you’ve hired Pearl Jam to play. Buy a lot of crap you don’t need on the internet — like somber books about doomsday – and delay shipping until October 22, 2011 or December 22, 2012, just to be a wise ass.

Have apocalypse sex: “thoughtless, careless sex happening right before a major disaster or possible ending of the world, without thought of consequences.” Thank the church for making Friday night an ideal time to make some very bad decisions.

But I still have questions. If zombies will rule the world, who’s going to make the new season of “The Walking Dead” and won’t it just become cliché if zombies are producing the show? That impartiality is bound to water down a lot of the drama.

It’s a better sign of the apocalypse if the Chicago Cubs, at the very least, had a winning record. Hope springs eternal but at 19-23, let’s face it, this is another year of it not being the year it all turns around. This is again a season of drinking at The Friendly Confines of Wrigley; not even the slightest molding of clay that begins to form the idea of a playoff run. Put the Cubs at the top of the NL Central, I’m listening, you’ve got yourself a sign.

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© 2011 – 2012, Soapy Johnson. All rights reserved.

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