How We Spend
Our Last Day on Earth
Says A Lot About Who We Are ...
Our Last Day on Earth
Says A Lot About Who We Are ...
I’d wake up and enjoy Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream. Maybe an omelet or two. Something unique, not made with eggs so much, but Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, ginger snap cookies, and bananas.
I’d read 1st Corinthians 13, Psalm 23, John 3, and Revelation 22 from The Holy Bible.
Pray a heartfelt prayer of faith, hope, and love. With added emphasis on love.
And then I’d read the space alien chapter from “Monster Laughs”.
Doing so would make me laugh. No need to let a silly thing like global annihilation ruin my day.
Even if it is. Gulp! My last.
Write several million-dollar checks to well-meaning charities, because I know how happy that would make them feel during their last few hours on Earth.
And that would make me feel better about the world ending, because otherwise, I’d get in a ton of trouble for writing bogus checks.
Maybe I’d even write a joke or two. Something hilarious with the punchline: “That’s the way the world crumbles.”
Or “That’s no chicken; that’s my foot!”
After all that, I’d enjoy a hearty bowl of Cocoa Puffs with chocolate milk, bananas, and liquefied peanut butter.
Then I’d call and say I love you and farewell to all the people who truly love me.
Both of them.
Just so I won’t forget to do so before my favorite planet falls apart as the huge asteroid comes closer.
Paramotor with a pal around the beaches and volcanoes of Hawaii, looking for the legendary island where bikini supermodels frolic in the waves.
Lunch would be shish kebabs with flank steak, using grain-fed beef, of course. (In case the world doesn’t end, I don’t want to be stupid.) Stuffing with gravy. Peach and/or pear juice to drink. Chocolate mint pie for dessert.
Listen to Boston’s album Boston while playing my best friend’s favorite video game. Preferably one where we “save the world”.
Play beach volleyball with my paramotoring pal and a dozen bikini supermodels. (We found the island!)
Elope with whichever supermodel passes my quiz, which none of them even realize they’re taking.
“Take a nap” with my supermodel bride (the one who won the tiebreaker question of: Why is Stan Lee clearly the most important writer of the 20th century?).
Setting aside a lifetime of fears caused by “Jaws”, I’d skinny dip in the ocean with my newlywed wife and her friends.
Listen to The Beatles’ albums Rubber Soul and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band while drying in the sun with the aforementioned supermodels.
Shower under a waterfall. Get dressed. Eat a banana split with mint chocolate chip ice cream and Dove chocolate, while listening to Michael Jackson’s Heal the World.
Dance on the beach at a luau at sunset, savoring the lyrical accuracy as they play Elvis singing “And now, the end is near.”
Walk along the shore, holding hands with my wife and eating Macadamia Nut White Chocolate Chip Cookies.
Kiss my bride and tell her how much I had hoped she’d be the one who would answer my questions correctly. Tell her “never mind”, when she asks “What questions?” (I told you she never realized she was being quizzed.)
If time permits, I’d don a mask and cape and fight crime. Maybe stop a mugging or two. Share the luau food, including the Macadamia Nut White Chocolate Chip Cookies, with the hungry. And hopefully write another joke or two. Possibly with the punchline: “That’s what happens when the warranty expires.”
Or “Can you believe they made a million dollars doing that?!”
Pray more prayers, thanking God for this beautiful day and for letting us enjoy the Earth for as long we did, giving special thanks for my supermodel wife.
Take another “nap” with my aforementioned supermodel wife.
Watch Brian Regan’s “I Walked on the Moon”, so we go to bed laughing.
Wake up the next day, kiss my bride, maybe take another “nap”, and then devour buttered Cinnamon Pop Tarts and apple juice. And then, of course, I’d -- What?! The world didn’t end?!
That wasn’t a huge asteroid after all, just a smudge on the Hubble telescope.
Use Windex, you so-called brilliant scientists!
Good thing I ate grain-fed beef.
Ugh! I married a supermodel! I know, as far as ughs go, that’s one of the best. But still, ...
Marrying for looks only works when you only have a day or two left to live. I need someone faithful, loving, and generous with a heart of gold and a delightful sense of humor. She doesn’t have to juggle and play the ukulele. But that would be nice.
Especially if she could juggle ukuleles!
I answer a knock at the door and find my self greeted by an assortment of cops, F.B.I. agent and S.W.A.T. team members. Gulp!
Turns out that happiness wasn’t the emotion felt by those so-called well-meaning charities who received my bogus checks!
While being finger-printed, I meet a scrawny, scruffy-looking girl who also wrote phony million-dollar checks to charities. We share a meaningful smile. And then the world ends. In one way or another.
What a day!
Blessings & Joy,I’d read 1st Corinthians 13, Psalm 23, John 3, and Revelation 22 from The Holy Bible.
Pray a heartfelt prayer of faith, hope, and love. With added emphasis on love.
And then I’d read the space alien chapter from “Monster Laughs”.
Doing so would make me laugh. No need to let a silly thing like global annihilation ruin my day.
Even if it is. Gulp! My last.
Write several million-dollar checks to well-meaning charities, because I know how happy that would make them feel during their last few hours on Earth.
And that would make me feel better about the world ending, because otherwise, I’d get in a ton of trouble for writing bogus checks.
Maybe I’d even write a joke or two. Something hilarious with the punchline: “That’s the way the world crumbles.”
Or “That’s no chicken; that’s my foot!”
After all that, I’d enjoy a hearty bowl of Cocoa Puffs with chocolate milk, bananas, and liquefied peanut butter.
Then I’d call and say I love you and farewell to all the people who truly love me.
Both of them.
Just so I won’t forget to do so before my favorite planet falls apart as the huge asteroid comes closer.
Paramotor with a pal around the beaches and volcanoes of Hawaii, looking for the legendary island where bikini supermodels frolic in the waves.
Lunch would be shish kebabs with flank steak, using grain-fed beef, of course. (In case the world doesn’t end, I don’t want to be stupid.) Stuffing with gravy. Peach and/or pear juice to drink. Chocolate mint pie for dessert.
Listen to Boston’s album Boston while playing my best friend’s favorite video game. Preferably one where we “save the world”.
Play beach volleyball with my paramotoring pal and a dozen bikini supermodels. (We found the island!)
Elope with whichever supermodel passes my quiz, which none of them even realize they’re taking.
“Take a nap” with my supermodel bride (the one who won the tiebreaker question of: Why is Stan Lee clearly the most important writer of the 20th century?).
Setting aside a lifetime of fears caused by “Jaws”, I’d skinny dip in the ocean with my newlywed wife and her friends.
Listen to The Beatles’ albums Rubber Soul and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band while drying in the sun with the aforementioned supermodels.
Shower under a waterfall. Get dressed. Eat a banana split with mint chocolate chip ice cream and Dove chocolate, while listening to Michael Jackson’s Heal the World.
Dance on the beach at a luau at sunset, savoring the lyrical accuracy as they play Elvis singing “And now, the end is near.”
Walk along the shore, holding hands with my wife and eating Macadamia Nut White Chocolate Chip Cookies.
Kiss my bride and tell her how much I had hoped she’d be the one who would answer my questions correctly. Tell her “never mind”, when she asks “What questions?” (I told you she never realized she was being quizzed.)
If time permits, I’d don a mask and cape and fight crime. Maybe stop a mugging or two. Share the luau food, including the Macadamia Nut White Chocolate Chip Cookies, with the hungry. And hopefully write another joke or two. Possibly with the punchline: “That’s what happens when the warranty expires.”
Or “Can you believe they made a million dollars doing that?!”
Pray more prayers, thanking God for this beautiful day and for letting us enjoy the Earth for as long we did, giving special thanks for my supermodel wife.
Take another “nap” with my aforementioned supermodel wife.
Watch Brian Regan’s “I Walked on the Moon”, so we go to bed laughing.
Wake up the next day, kiss my bride, maybe take another “nap”, and then devour buttered Cinnamon Pop Tarts and apple juice. And then, of course, I’d -- What?! The world didn’t end?!
That wasn’t a huge asteroid after all, just a smudge on the Hubble telescope.
Use Windex, you so-called brilliant scientists!
Good thing I ate grain-fed beef.
Ugh! I married a supermodel! I know, as far as ughs go, that’s one of the best. But still, ...
Marrying for looks only works when you only have a day or two left to live. I need someone faithful, loving, and generous with a heart of gold and a delightful sense of humor. She doesn’t have to juggle and play the ukulele. But that would be nice.
Especially if she could juggle ukuleles!
I answer a knock at the door and find my self greeted by an assortment of cops, F.B.I. agent and S.W.A.T. team members. Gulp!
Turns out that happiness wasn’t the emotion felt by those so-called well-meaning charities who received my bogus checks!
While being finger-printed, I meet a scrawny, scruffy-looking girl who also wrote phony million-dollar checks to charities. We share a meaningful smile. And then the world ends. In one way or another.
What a day!
P. S. If you like apocalyptic ramblings,
please check out my previous post:
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