What with the end of the world coming and all...

I should probably take some time for self-reflection.  I mean, granted, the odds of me getting swept up in the rapture are fairly slim... but still, just in case, I should probably spend less time being annoyed that thanks to stupid *Maisy, I missed the season finale of Big Bang Theory and spend more time counting my blessings and repenting, or whatever it is that one does the day before the True Believers are called before God.  (Honoring my mother and my father?  Not coveting my neighbors wife?  Not committing adultery?)


(At least I HOPE it's only the True Believers... if the heathens get to go first I will TOTALLY not be prepared.  I'll be sitting there in my sweat pants with half a candy bar hanging out of my mouth going, "What?  Me?")


Anyway, going with the premise that life as we know it will cease to exist sometime tomorrow afternoon (PST), I feel like I should be doing something important, instead of sitting on the couch drinking coffee and watching Snapped!.  Like, I dunno... go on a shopping spree.  Eat every Good 'n Plenty in the tri state area.    Take up smoking.  Eat a cube of butter dipped in brown sugar.  Stop wrinkling my nose at deep fried Snickers and actually try one.


Oooh... I know!  Quit bitching about the fact that the grocery stores here don't stock liquor and actually drive the 10 miles to the liquor store and buy enough bottles of X Rated to keep me good and fuzzy until I find out if all my mocking of Harold Camping and his ministry is called for or actually will turn out to be my final sentence to hellfire and damnation.  


(Should I be worried?  Hmmmm.)


My mocking of brimstone has been part of my personality for as long as I can remember.  My heated argument with my mother about the wimpiness of Adam (it was the woman!  She tempted me!) after a particularly annoying Sunday school lesson in 5th grade got me sentenced to summer Bible school, a talk with the pastor, and stuck in confirmation classes for the next two years.


GOD that sucked.  Also?  The pastor hated me.  I got sent home frequently and spent a majority of my 7th and 8th grade years being on constant threat of groundation if I didn't stop correcting and arguing with the pastor.  (I didn't stop.)


Blind faith was never my strong point.


The logical little brain that I was born with made it impossible for me to take my mother's word for Santa Claus, the Easter bunny, the ToothFairy, and yes, even the Virgin Birth.  My sister, even though she was older, was WAY more gullible (my words... my mother would call her devout) and would cry when I would hammer my mother with arguments about why certain things in the Bible could not possibly be true.  (In retrospect, I was a really annoying little girl.  I probably would have smacked me.)  She would reach the point of needing to choose between beating me just to shut me up, or sending me to my room and threatening me with being shipped off to a convent until I was transformed into a God-fearing Christian.


(Every time my mother was late picking me up from somewhere... which was pretty much every time she was supposed to pick me up... I would get nervous wondering if this was the time she was going to ship me off.)


But I couldn't stop myself.  If it didn't make sense to me and didn't follow a logical sequence of events, I couldn't quite believe it.  I mean, why WOULDN'T Lot's wife look over her shoulder to see if her husband and children were behind her?  I don't care how big the lightning bolt is in front of me, if my world is crashing to the ground in back of me, I'm going to TURN AROUND.  Right?  Turning her into a pillar of salt was unnecessary, in my opinion.


And don't get me started on Abraham and being willing to slaughter his son just because voices in his head told him to do it.  


"Who did Adam and Eve's kids marry?  Who did Noah's kids marry?  Well, if they didn't marry eachOTHER, why didn't life on earth end?  Hmmmmmm?"  


"So how DID the Holy Ghost impregnate Mary, then?  But how?  But how?"  


"Women on their PERIODS couldn't go to church?  And if a man happened to brush by a woman while she was on her period and accidentally touch her sleeve or something, HE couldn't go to church?  That's stupid.  If God gave her a period, why couldn't she go to church?  Wouldn't that be GOD'S fault?  I mean, she didn't ASK to have a period..."


"If God told you to kill me, would you do it?"






My poor mother.


It got worse when I started reading books on the history of religion.  (Which is totally my parents' fault... THEY'RE the ones who decided that "television is brainwashing the youth of America and turning them into a nation of illiterates" and turned off the tv and told me to read.  Oh yeah... I read.  How do you like me NOW?  Wishing you'd let me watch The Brady Bunch now, aren't ya!)


Ah well... come the Rapture, I'll be the one arguing with the Lord about a badly executed End of the World event.  I mean, only telling one batshit crazy peacher in Oakland was NOT a good plan.  If you want to be taken seriously, GOD, you would have been better off going with Billy Graham.  Or if you TRULY want the republicans on your side, why not whisper in George Dubya Bush's ear?  I'm telling you, you did not think this through.  


You could have hired a party planner, gotten the word out via Fox News... what were you THINKING?  


And this, ladies and gentlemen?  Is why you will find me in hell roasting marshmallows with Satan on May 22nd.  


I bid you a Happy Rapture's Eve!