The Final Moments
So the Mayan calender ends tomorrow, huh?
To hear the Mayans tell it they never thought that it would mark the end of days, but there are most likely people out there
(given the raving lunatics that are running around)
who believe that we are all doomed.
I might as well hedge my bets.
If this is indeed my last post I have to wonder what the hell I'll be doing when the great fireball scorches the Earth.
I'll most likely be sitting with one of the boys, talking about who the hell is gonna' play right field at the stadium this year.
Either that or I'll be listening to my beautiful wife explain what happened during her work day.
Or I'll be singing one of my songs to one of my dogs.
Melky is my buddy, Melky is my girl. Melky is my buddy, she hates the stupid squirrel.
Or I'll be listening to my boys chatter about the Bills and how if they can just draft Joe Namath in his prime they'll go 16 and 0 and shock the world.
And if any of those things are going on...
...that will be just fine.
Yet given the world chaos in the last few weeks don't you think that if there was a definitive date for the end of times there'd be mass hysteria?
People are already collecting guns as if they need to ward off the rogue government that is coming.
(As my buddy, Mike said, 'The government has nuclear bombs. Your assault weapons won't help you').
Yet in any regard I'm thinking that if the frogs come raining from the skies on Friday morning or afternoon or night all hell will really break lose.
People won't be in the chapel praying for their eternal life.
Men will rape and pillage.
Guns will go off all across the land.
Terror will reign.
And in the gathering darkness you'll hear a laugh from a comfortable home in Blasdell, New York as one of my children laughs at me.
For singing a new song to my dog.
To hear the Mayans tell it they never thought that it would mark the end of days, but there are most likely people out there
(given the raving lunatics that are running around)
who believe that we are all doomed.
I might as well hedge my bets.
If this is indeed my last post I have to wonder what the hell I'll be doing when the great fireball scorches the Earth.
I'll most likely be sitting with one of the boys, talking about who the hell is gonna' play right field at the stadium this year.
Either that or I'll be listening to my beautiful wife explain what happened during her work day.
Or I'll be singing one of my songs to one of my dogs.
Melky is my buddy, Melky is my girl. Melky is my buddy, she hates the stupid squirrel.
Or I'll be listening to my boys chatter about the Bills and how if they can just draft Joe Namath in his prime they'll go 16 and 0 and shock the world.
And if any of those things are going on...
...that will be just fine.
Yet given the world chaos in the last few weeks don't you think that if there was a definitive date for the end of times there'd be mass hysteria?
People are already collecting guns as if they need to ward off the rogue government that is coming.
(As my buddy, Mike said, 'The government has nuclear bombs. Your assault weapons won't help you').
Yet in any regard I'm thinking that if the frogs come raining from the skies on Friday morning or afternoon or night all hell will really break lose.
People won't be in the chapel praying for their eternal life.
Men will rape and pillage.
Guns will go off all across the land.
Terror will reign.
And in the gathering darkness you'll hear a laugh from a comfortable home in Blasdell, New York as one of my children laughs at me.
For singing a new song to my dog.
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