Good morning — or good afternoon, depending on your time zone. This could be the last ever day of your life. And since I’ll be spending it working, I’ll be offering sporadic updates on the how it’s all going down.
Clearly, the best possible use of your potentially precious last moments on earth…
8:31 a.m. – Well, it’s cloudy in Los Angeles. This is a bummer because it will obscure the view of righteous bodies being sucked up into heaven — I’ll clearly be down here on the ground — and because I was hoping to get some color before the scheduled leviathan appearance overcrowds the beach.
8:42 a.m. – Apparently “Rapture o’clock” — 6:00 p.m. — has already come and gone in Australia, Asia and parts of Europe. It’s actually not even Saturday in Oz anymore. So unless they’ll be providing a lot of company for us left behind New World-ers, things are looking up.
9:45 a.m. – I technically haven’t seen or communicated with other human beings yet… so I’m going out for coffee, just to check.
10:50 a.m. – Acquaintances, both heathen and pious, spotted on coffee run — and the sun’s coming out. All’s well! And Daily Intel brings my attention to the below image of a woman looking super-bummed and/or serious about the world ending. Its even funnier in hindsight. She probably needs a drink right about now.
11:45 a.m. – They say animals have a heightened sensitivity to impending natural disasters and other unpleasantness. Well, my friend’s dog just pooped on my deck. A lot. So I’m reinstating homeland security color-coding and putting us on an orange alert for the apocalypse. Sorry!
1:12 p.m. – I’ve always thought my apocalypse game plan would involve going solo into the mountains, with a baseball bat and a bottle of Maker’s Mark. But the more I think about it, the more I realize a companion would probably increase my chances of survival. Ideally, I’d go with that machete-wielding lady from “28 Days Later” or the German Shepherd from “I am Legend.”
1:25 p.m. – Ruh roh. Iceland’s most active volcano just started erupting, and MSBNC reports plumes are shooting 18,000 feet into the sky. I’m taking this as carte blanche to skip the gym.
2:15 p.m. – Taking a break to get a haircut — gotta look nice for Jesus. (Also: my salon has bottomless Tecate Saturdays… every day.)
4:13 p.m. – Oh hey guys. That took longer than expected. Still no Jesus, but I’m
looking super smart. And some higher power did thwart our permanent national plea for a Triple Crown winner – again! Is a world without one
indisputably great horse even worth living in? Pshhhprobablynot.
4:46 p.m. – What is more disappointing: the uneventfulness of this day or the uneventfulness of this live-blog? Nothing has even happened on the Zsa Zsa Gabor front today. (Knock on wood/Seriously, it’s time.)
5:18 p.m. – Iced Tea and vodka. Who knew?
5:31 p.m. – I’m officially calling the prophetic dog from earlier today as an isolated incident. A second friend’s pup is currently on the deck, not pooping or predicting an earthquake. Look at this lil’ dude:
(Ironically, his name is Deuce.)
6:26 p.m. – Whoa. It’s well past 6:00 p.m. on the west coast — so unless the world is only ending in Hawaii, this rapture is officially a bust. Also? I’m wildly disappointed that there have been no comments about this awesome dog and/or his severe under-bite. What more do you people want?