Then came the Bird-men, probably because we’d been fucking birds.
As the biggest assholes in the world remind me on Facebook, now begins the end of the Mayan something or other. Their calendar runs out in like a week, signaling the prophesied end of Mayan civilization. You can tell the calendar was really important to the Mayans, because the only specific part of their end-of-the-world prophecy is the date. In this way it is the opposite of say, Revelation, which tells us in gory detail what will happen but really leaves us hanging re: when. I am forced to conclude that all presently occurring phenomena are signs of the end times, and this week was the ripple that precedes the wave of stable dog/cat roommate situations. Today is Friday—possibly our last. Won’t you scrutinize the heavens with me?