(Note: Things are tightening up in “Apartment Life Returns,” with Part Seven now ready)
A couple weeks ago, the doomsday clock got moved up two minutes. Scientists who study Armageddon (not that ridiculous movie) say that we have 120 fewer seconds to live on this planet.
I choose to look at it as a glass half-full scenario. That’s more gas I can burn, more trash I can throw away, more trees I can cut, without feeling bad about it.
Man, this is liberating.
I innocently walked into the break room with my homemade sandwich, planning to start reading the next book in “The Chronicles of Narnia,” but realized I didn’t have it. My stressed eyes knew that meant more time staring at this laptop screen. Then my ears heard the blaring television’s blurb about the doomsday clock.
What would you do if someone said, “You have two minutes less to live.”
I’m going to run yellow lights, pinch my wife’s butt for no reason, and fart out loud. I’m going to take a full hour just to shit, shower, shave, and scarf down a bowl of cereal before going to work. If I’m running late, I’m going to put milk in one travel mug and cereal in another, and alternate pouring each into my mouth while driving, and screw how stupid other people think it looks.
Then I’m going to start making some changes.
Seriously, who comes up with this timing of the end of the world? And what network covers it as news?
Oh, right, Fox News Channel. I should have known.
This should be a clue that all-day news channels are overkill. How many times do they need to show a tiny corporate jet circling an unknown airport because its landing gear malfunctioned?
Why, every time it happens, of course. Because that’s late-breaking news.
I just hope somebody tells the next pilot that he or she has 120 fewer seconds to land that plane, wheels or not.