It occurs to me that I still have a copy of Rock Of Ages sitting on the ole Blue Ray player courtesy of my DVD mailer service. For reasons unknown, I haven’t packed that thing up and sent it back yet.
Today that doesn’t really matter a whole lot now, does it?
The Mayan Apocalypse takes place today, December 21, 2012.
That’s right people. It’s the end of the world and I’ll be damned if I’m going to tie what presumably could be my last blog ever to a song lyric which I would expecte is littering the blogosphere today.
And what do I have to show for it if today is our last on Earth?
An unreturned copy of Rock Of Ages on DVD comes to mind.
In addition to that, 356 Letters From The Past round out the notches in the frilly looking quill I’ve used to publish some of the most elaborate lines of bull known to the internet.
All things being equal, I’m more inclined to believe the predictions of the cryptic markings found on an Oreo before I subscribe to the fact that I probably don’t have to separate my reds, from my darks, from my denims, from my whites anymore.
Regardless, this will be my last blog if the prediction sacks up and discontinues life as we know it.
On the other hand, if today passes on like any other day and those who believe the end is near come to the sudden realization that they’ve been the victim of a really old Mayan Rick Roll, then the demand for me to produce 9 more daily posts to fulfill an ambitious TharpSterLution becomes inevitable.
That’s based on the fact that I don’t die or generally snap between now on the 31st.
On a somewhat related side note, I’d like to take this opportunity on what could be our last day on Earth to discuss Gingers.
I’ve come to the conclusion that Gingers are either really, really, hot, or they’re really, really not. I don’t think I’ve ever seen an average looking Ginger. That even goes for German Sheppards, which generically get named Ginger all the time.
Anyway, here’s a Ginger discussing the 2012 dilemma. She won an Oscar for this one.
Gingers winning Oscars.