Escatologically speaking, we are fucked! The Rupture is upon us, the end times are ending, and the high times have begun.
How do we know The Rupture is upon us? Look at the teabags, my friend.
#1 - Rusty is here.
#2 - The cartoon battles are in full force.
#3 - Seven Tempos have blown seven horns while waiting for seven ducklings to cross Ronald Reagan Boulevard (which used to be Seventh Street).
"Hosanna," you're probably saying to yourself, "the great tribulation is over and God's defeat of evil is nigh." You are understandably enthusiastic about what this means for you and yourn. Not so fast my friends. I am afraid I must bear some bad news.
Granted, most Western monotheistic faiths hold that true believers will be spared God's wrath on judgment day and will instead enter the kingdom of heaven. Due to some unfortunate missteps during planning sessions and some ill-advised focus groups, our faith never adopted a heaven myth. We had every intention of creating a paradise/end of time scenario, but we just did not get around to it. We were very busy constructing our paradise-like vacation land which can be rented by the day or by the week. Paradise proper was on our "honey-do" list, but, regrettably, honey didn’t.
And so, that leaves us "out in the dark," so to speak. You can only imagine how sorry we are that you and yourn will spend eternity out here in the depths of nothingness with me and mine. But hey, let's make the best of it. It'll be like a sleepover. A really, really long, cold, dark, sleepover.
Reference materials:
Cartoon Wars – The First Unichurck Was Attacked
Rupture Reprieve
Rupture Premajaculation
14 comments:
You sad pathetic lamb!
Look where you brought us to.
Our ideals die around us and all because of you.
....but the saddest cut of all is someone had to drag you in...
like a common criminal
like a wethered animal
like unflavored gelatin
like unflavored gelatin
like unsavored, disfavored, unflavored gelatin
Its much too late in the process to be worrying about finished paradise-like vacation land now. The Seven Tempos have already blown the horns.
The great I, of course, cannot be blamed, as I was much too busy listening to requests for winning lottery numbers to busy myself with a heaven.
You'll have noone but yourselves to blame during the Great Sleep. Good games, world. It's been fun.
It was fun while it lasted, but then again, there's no way in hell I want to do it all over again.
Uh, you won't be snoring during the Great Sleep, will you?
Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain! I fear that our deity may have a god complex.
PS - Not snore. Uberschnorren.
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=uberschnorren
Urm, did I miss something.
Yes, I'm afraid you did miss something.
Rusty has appeared (signalling the end of time). However, we hadn't quite finished up our theology, and we never got around to constructing heaven. This is not my fault. You may recall that I wanted to create the heaven myth very early on, but everyone insisted on working on the musical. Well, now we don't have either.
To further complicate matters, Rusty appears to be less forgiving than one might have hoped. He seems kind of OldTestamenty with his "holier than thou" attitude.
In sum, we've still got books and other Rustywhear to sell, we've got no time left, the musical is only half-finished, and there is no heaven. We are so fucked!
But, but I'm a saint, surely that counts for something. Don't I get a key under the mat or something? A small scale miracle perhaps, as much as I love you gentlemen, the thought of sleeping with you for eternity, is somewhat disconcerting!!
Geez, from 2-feet away that picture looks like something I yarked up in the pooper a couple of weeks ago.
Is it a sign?
Is it truly the end?
/bark bark bark
dammit! i didnt get my rupture tickets in time. all that's left is rustywear. yick.
/grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Hey Jude, don't make it bad. You only get to sleep with me for half of eternity. We're all going to take turns since monogamy is going out with the lights.
Mother, you had me, but I never had you. You can follow Jude.
K9, Imagine there's no Heaven. We do offer Rustywhear dog shirts.
APS- It'll be just like starting over.
Cocoa,whatever gets you through the night. The very, very long, cold, dark night.
Rusty, you might want to rethink that. Admiral Pooper has already posted a picture of his encounter with me on his blog.
As you can see, I rarely wash my feet.
;-)
In accordance with scriptures, my feet are all that I wash. You will complete me.
Although I'm flattered, I'm not Rusty. Apparently, he turns out to be an 18 year old student from North Carolina.
I guess one can't predict from which humble manager the savior will arise. I always figured he'd resurface in Vegas, myself.
Did I hear someone say that Elvis is alive?
Alive and well, and living with the British Olympic team in Tunbridge Wells!!
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