It’s 2012, why am I still alive?

10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

I held my breath, and did another count down, this one in my head. After about 30 seconds, I gave up with a sigh, and focused entirely on making sweet lip love with Mistress. It looks like those bloodthirsty dicks the Mayans had gotten it wrong. The world hadn’t ended at all. I was still out celebrating with my friends. The expensive big-time DJ that the bar had flown in from LA was still spinning the same top 40 crap that any asshole with an iPod could have pumped through the Popov soaked speakers. We were still placing drink orders on some poor guy named Lloyd’s tab. (Thanks Lloyd.) I was unsuccessfully attempting to avoid detection as I ogled all the pretties in their little black dresses. It was pretty conclusive. We were all very much alive.

I’ll be the first to admit, I was a little disappointed. It turned out I would be going back to work in the morning after all.

Our continued existence isn’t all bad, I guess. Its no reason to give up hope just yet. 2012 is a long year after all. A leap year even. We still have plenty of time to achieve extinction.

I wonder how it’s all going to end. I mean, you know where my vote is being cast. Zombie Apocalypse. The signs are there people. There is plenty of room for surprises though. Asteroid Collision, Supernova, Volcanic eruptions, The Death Star, mutant dolphins with opposable thumbs and a taste for human flesh. These are all within the realm of possibility.

The weird thing is, for a lot of people, none of these horrible ends to civilization would be particularly unwelcome. You can count me among them. To be clear, i’m not suicidal. I think being alive is the bees knees. I even appreciate society, and all of its inherent perks; like the ability to order groceries online and have them delivered to my house, or the freedom to pay other people to change my car’s oil so I don’t get grease in my fingernails. Modern conveniences are pretty cool. The end of the world sure would make things a whole lot simpler though.

We wouldn’t have to worry about the fact that no matter which of the presidential candidates we elect, it won’t be a great choice, because there just isn’t a great choice available. We won’t have to sacrifice a significant portion of our income to a social security system that will have most likely failed by the time we are old enough to benefit from it (you’re welcome grandma), or to pay taxes which fund government initiatives we don’t support. People will stop making fun of me for not having an iPhone. We won’t have to worry about holes in the ozone, or Pakistan’s secret agenda. We wouldn’t have to watch those horrible TV commercials with the sad music where rich celebrities tell us that for just 40 cents a day, we can save 3 litters of sick puppies. I don’t want to save any sick puppies, they have gross gooey eyes, and that one there is missing a leg, and that’s nasty, and I hate them, so shut the fuck up Sarah Mclachlan.

If the end of the world happens, we’ll either be dead, or we’ll be driving around the desert Mad Max style, fighting off hordes of mohawked ruffians. Our entire existence will revolve around the following simple urges: Eat, Sleep, Poop, Fuck.

Those are the same things that interest your dog. Over the past day, your asshole labradoodle licked its own crotch for 3.5 hours, ate the contents of 4 garbage cans, and then napped for 18 hours straight. If you say you’re not jealous of that shaggy fucks life, you’re a liar.

Once the end of the world happens, we’ll all finally be free to enjoy garbage can feasts, and that’s not a bad thing.

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About Max T Kramer

Max has been better than you at writing since the third grade. He currently lives in Connecticut, but will someday return to the desert.
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