THE END OF THE WORLD WAS YESTERDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You are reading this in Heaven --or HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQAVJAaSHAk&feature=fvst

Ignore the 30 seconds of YT bullshit, the payoff is the crazy bastard who says he won't be here tomorrow -- which is today, Sunday, May 22. Of course, Harold Camping, is indeed still among us as I write this, unless the douchetard had the good grace to either die of embarrassment or commit hari kari.

But then I got to thinking, wouldn't it be pretty cool if 200 million people just started taking off for the heavens? One minute you're ordering a beef burrito from Taco Bell -- just a little guac, mild on the salsa -- and like POOF! the only white chick in the place -- the one behind the counter -- starts rising into the air, THROUGH the ventilation and the roof and into the sky, flipping you off on the way up to Heaven screaming Peace Out, MOTHERFUCKER!!!!! I am going to live with Jesus Christ in the Kingdom of motherfucking Heaven, eating beef burritos all day long and swimming in vats of guacamole!!! SUCK IT, BIIIIATCHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And I am still in line behind some fat, greasy trailer trash whore with BO that punches like Chuck Norris waiting for my burrito. I would be so pissed off. But who do you complain to? The manager is watching her lame-ass employee -- who couldn't make it to work on time if she had a police escort -- fly through the motherfucking clouds to meet Jesus. The manager ain't doing shit but falling to her knees and crossing herself like she thinks one of the Four Horsemen is coming through the door.

And I am still waiting. I know for sure now my burrito is gonna be delayed, but I've already paid, you know? I mean, it ain't like I'm leaving without my food. I am $5.52 into this bitch and money is tight nowadays. Fuck that.

So now, the retarded counter girl is soaring past my cell phone tower and I can't get the crazy fucking Haitians in the 400-degree kitchen to put my burrito together. They don't speak English and I can't speak Illegal Immigrant. I can see that floating bitch out the drive-trough window and she ain't slowin' down at all. By now I am near a seizure because I know there is no way in hell I'm gonna be eating in the next 10 minutes because few things move slower than a contrite Haitian in a Taco Bell -- everybody knows that.

Finally, my order comes up -- Nachos Grande, a chicken chaluppa and medium soda. By now it's been 25 minutes since I ordered and the Rapture is full-on. I mean, people are floating everywhere, like in the motherfucking Matrix. People are getting all Raptured out their car windows and stuff -- I mean, it ain't like Jesus is gonna wait for you to park the car, ya know?

So you got car wrecks and airliners falling out of the sky; first because people are all Rapturing through the engines and stuff and also because some of the pilots are Raptured right out the fucking planes. But it's cool, ya know, because God's got this. The planes that are falling out of the sky are only gonna land on houses full of people who aren't gonna be Raptured, right? I mean, wouldn't it just suck if an airliner plowed through a church full of people getting ready for take-off? God wouldn't let that happen. He only wants to hurt the ones who aren't gonna be all Raptured, right?

But I'm just kidding anyway, you know? Just playing a game of "what if." No Rapture happened yesterday and none happened today. However, through some kind of miracle, I was able to mow the yard, trim the rose bush in the front yard AND kick my kid's ass in Wii bowling, so there was definitely something mystical in the air, just not the end of the world Harold Camping predicted.

Now it's up to the Mayans. You know, the whole 2012 thing they had working before they got erased from theplanet 1,500 years ago or so?You would think they would have seen that one coming.

Yeah, 2012! That ought to be good times. Maybe Harold Camping should check into it.

This is some funny shit right here. Chimps in general are hilarious, and notoriously big drinkers. If you ever get the chance to throw down with a chimp, I suggest you take it. But never party with marsupials. They can't hold their liquor and always want to "jump into your pouch," if you know what I mean. That's gay. And by gay I mean fucked up, not faggy. Unless it's a dude chimp, in which case it would then be faggy AND gay.

Famous movie quotes that never were ...

"I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse." -- Don Vito Corleone, The Godfather
"Hold him still while I do jumping jacks on his balls." -- Patrick Jihad

"Toto, I've got a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore." -- Dorothy Gale, Wizard of Oz
"Toto, there are some ugly fucking midgets all up in here." -- Patrick Jihad

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." --  Rhett Butler, Gone with the Wind
"Frankly, my dear, you smell like santorum." -- Patrick Jihad

"Go ahead, make my day" -- Harry Callahan, Dirty Harry
What, are you gonna fuck with  Dirty Harry? -- Patrick Jihad

"All right, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up." -- Norma Desmond, Sunset Boulevard
"All right, Mr. DeVille, my, that's a big car you have..." -- Patrick Jihad

"May the Force be with you." -- Han Solo, Star Wars
"What the fuck, Carrie? Are those cinnamon rolls stuck to your head?" -- Patrick Jihad

"What we've got here is (a) failure to communicate." -- Captain Strother Martin, Cool Hand Luke
"Luke, I am gonna beat you like a rabid black cat." -- Patrick Jihad

"I love the smell of napalm in the morning!" -- Lt. Col. Bill Kilgore, Apocalypse Now
" I love the smell of crack whores in the morning." -- Patrick Jihad

"E.T. phone home." -- E.T.,  E.T.
 "ET, why is your head so lumpy? -- Patrick Jihad

"If you build it, he will come." -- Shoeless Joe Jackson, Field of Dreams
"If you build it, you must be Chinese." -- Patrick Jihad

Bad Vajayjay

Dear Gabby: When my ex-boyfriend and I called it off, he was very heavyset. (He was 5’10” and 250 lbs.) He was slimmer when we met, and then his life became stressful. (His cat died, his mom got cancer, and his niece was molested by her stepfather.) I wanted him to lose some weight for health reasons, but he wouldn’t. His eating habits were grossing me out. He went to McDonald’s almost every day and ordered three Big Macs. So we broke up eight months ago because of all the arguments.
Well, here’s the sad part. He’s thinner now (about 175 lbs. of muscle) and has a new girlfriend, who’s a total witch. And he’s hotter than he used to be. I really would like him back because he’s hot and slim. How can I step on his witchy new girlfriend so I can get him back? — Douchebag

Dear Douchebag: If you made a play for him, he might figure out it was all about the physical aspects, which is none too flattering. As for the witch, I would not move to dislodge her. My only suggestion would be to let him know that you find yourself missing him and see if he responds. Or doesn’t. — Gabby

What Vajayjay would have told her:

This is Douchebag, the crack whore.

Dear Douchebag: Likely, your boyfriend -- who was slimmer when you met -- gained significant weight because he realized you are a nagging fucking psycho who's only interested in getting your polluted vagina stuffed with any kind of meat product you can find. He ordered three Big Macs because he was fucking hungry after constantly  barfing like a strung-out bulimic from looking at your atrocious grossness every night. By all means, throw your skanky, scab-ridden skeleton at him one more time! What have you got to lose? After all, it ain't like self-respect is something you hold dear, you fucking crack whore. And when he says, "thanks, no," try to not weep openly. You don't want your STD-laden tears to wash away any of the crusty skankiness you have worked so hard to acquire. You stupid douche.

Yard work

Sucks

more than cankers.
more than a sweaty nut sack.
more than an ugly stripper
more than stale beer
more than cold pizza
more than chicks with hairy nipples
more than last call
more than shitty money shots
more than red lights
more than Adam Sandler

But yard work still doesn't suck:

as much as rectal drainage
as much as women's gymnastics
as much as cold vajayjay
as much as cats
as much as the Baltimore Orioles
as much as riding the Blue Line in the same car as a homeless man with beer farts
as much as sleeping on the wet spot.
as much as going down on a fat girl.
as much as people who don't know they're stupid.
as much as Pauley Shore

What they should have said ...

A royal pain in my balls

Jesus H. Christ, for the love of all that is not retarded in this world, can we please, PRETTY PLEASE shut the fuck up about the latest royal wedding? I swear to Bob Barker's spotless colon that if I hear one more fucking word about leg-o-mutton sleeves or how Queen Elizabeth thinks Kate Middleton is the best thing since Tivo I am gonna go postal all over Buckingham Palace, starting with the Queen Mum -- who I will dig up, shoot in the skull, punch in her fucking bony cervix and then leave out for circling paparazzi to pepper with relentless questions about her drastic weight loss while she remains very quiet about it.

Who the hell really even cares about this bullshit, except for women and over the top fags who see this not as a celebration of love but as a reason to get fucked up and have unprotected sex in loos from Scotland Yard to Stonehenge and back again? Having never been to London OR Stonehenge, I don't know how many loos that is, but I bet it's a whole fucking bunch -- at least five. Brits are notorious for not going to the toilet a lot, part of the reason so many of them are full of shit. It's true. Look it up.

And the media has jumped right in. They are the ones yelling about how wonderful this is and how it unites the country in a harmonious love fest that will run the course of a fairy tale. Now, if by that they mean Kate Middleton will drink a potion that will ultimately kill her, I am all for it. Take two, my dear! But if they really think this is gonna be a love that defines a century, I have a London Bridge to sell them. I give this sham of a marriage 10 years tops before William decides his princely seed needs to be deposited in another fair maiden and calls Hugh Grant for a couple phone numbers of some quality leg. Fuck it. Make it five years. He's young and horny. Kate will be lucky if Wild Bill ain't leg humping the mote operator the night of the wedding.

Jesus, I can't wait for this bullshit to be over.

But you know the Japanese are loving this shit up. Fuck four melting nuclear reactors and a tsunami. With this royal wedding going on and the way the US press has bent over to take it in the anus for them, we don't hear a fucking peep about them.

Natural disasters are no match for royalty -- at least not in the United States.