Monday, May 9, 2011

We can't even buy green bananas

I'm going to the library later today and I'm checking out as many books as I'm allowed to-and not because I just got new eyeglasses and I want to break them in. I'm picking out books I've always wanted to own, not just read, because not only do I have no intentions of returning them, I may not even have to.

If you have a couple of bills left to pay off and have been dilly-dallying around, you may actually be rewarded for your lackadasicality (assuming such a word exists) without any impact on your credit rating. And if lackadasicality isn't really a word, no worries and don't try lobbying to get it into the next Merriam Websters since I ain't here on business, baby, I'm only here for fun. Turns out you you are, too; we just didn't know it.

Yep, the morning of the 22nd, we may not be sitting here wondering what to have for breakfast after we come home from Mass (I'm thinking Egg McMuffin, but I'm a FARC). There are some who think nothing goes down better after the Body of Christ in the Holy Eucharist than a stack of blueberry pancakes from IHOP. Go tell it on the mountain if you're so inclined. And assuming we survive Saturday, May 21st maybe we'll all see you there. Or not.

We may wish we were Gary Vollmer who, I certainly hope, is using annual leave to spread the Gospel of Put a Fork in Us rather than his sick leave (because Federal employees earn both; I am a font of knowledge but you better ask your questions now and avoid the rush since I stop taking requests after noon next Thursday, the 19th) as he follows the teachings of Harold Camping.

I grew up not that far from Piscataway Township; actually, you drive through it when you're on 287 (it's a lot bigger now it seems. Bet they have indoor plumbing and everything). I hope my brother, Adam, won't be in a big hurry to get to work that morning, not so much because of the traffic (it will be a Saturday after all) but because of the Rapture. I just realized he just bought a new tire for his car....!

From what I remember of Piscataway, they could have End Times there starting forty-five minutes ago and nobody in Highland Park (Remind me, to tell you about this place; I am thrilled it still exists) would notice or care. But of course, this time we're talking King Size Kalamity so I've already started putting my name in all my underwear in permanent ink. I figure shirts and slacks will be in abundance in The Hereafter but I don't think you can have enough changes of undergarments.

If you've been putting off making that bucket list, bunky, you might want start because we are so burning daylight starshine. I gotta tell ya, I've made some good progress on mine just by steadily plugging away at it one item at a time. Let's see, I've been loved and put aside, I've been crushed by the tumbling tide and and my soul has been psychedelicized. Check. Still need to find out what time the library opens this morning.
-bill kenny

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