End of Gays

It seems like every day the New York Times publishes a new story about a shooting rampage. This is a sign that the world really is ending. Nostradamus 2012. Which is a pity because I'm pretty sure Tina Turner was planning a comeback that year.

In preparation for the end of the world, I have started going to the gym every day for 2 hours. I want to be in peak condition when the world ends so that I can outrun the zombies and outswim the tsunamis. I also want to be strong enough to withstand the famine/plague/lack of internet service. But these gym sessions have proven only marginally effective. I have a habit of eating a slice of vegetable pizza immediately afterward.

What if the world really did end in 2012? There are other signs that point to its demise: the rapid onslaught of global warming, the collapse of the global economy, the cancellation of Pushing Daisies. If it does happen in 2012, I will only be one year out of college. Perhaps I will be in grad school. I can't imagine the world ending before I even find a decent job. I can't imagine the world ending before I find a decent boyfriend. Dear world, hold off for like, five years please.

But on the other hand, this confluence of disasters is probably occurring because, like dominoes, one collapse causes another. At some point, a domino will remain just out of reach of the collapsing chain and from that point, we can all rebuild and move on.

So probably, the world is not ending. I can stop going to the gym and stop freaking out about my 10,000 virtual shares of Panera Bread. What do the Mayans know anyway? Oh wait, didn't the Mayans invent popcorn? We're screwed.