Countdown to the Rapture, NGM Edition: Day 3
Originally published at Big Ugly Man Doll. Please leave any comments there.
Folks, the TV show Glee has made a few of your lists for things you’re Not Gonna Miss, and I can’t tell you how close it’s come to making mine. It’s been a near thing. They only have one sympathtic character, and they give her all the good lines. (“You think that’s hard? I’m counting down ’til the Rapture! That’s hard!”) I just can’t make myself suspend enough disbelief to give a damn. I just don’t care if Finn and Shue have made up and are kissing again, or who Puck wants to bang today. Shut up and sing already - I’ve seen better plots in porn movies. But as much as I’m Not Gonna Miss it, it’s not bad enough to make the Top Ten list:
Number 10: Donald Trump’s Hair.
Number 9: People who can’t drive in bad weather.
Number 8: Annoying Facebook status update memes.
Number 7: Cheap Beer.
Number 6: Natural Disasters.
Number 5: Prophesies about the End of the World that turn out to be wrong.
Number 4: Organized religions.
Number 3: Dieting.
It’s been noted that diet is just “die” spelled with a T at the end, and I think there’s a reason for this. Let’s face it, there’s a reason I’m not called the Small Ugly Man Doll - and it’s not all beer. Most of us like a nice outing to the Fatty Snax deli at least once in a while - Mmmmm, butter, bacon, beef, it’s like a litany of deisre for my tastebuds. Rich foods, that nice sharp chocolate, and a good Scotch - counting calories my eternally expanding ass, let’s eat!
In heaven, I won’t watch my cholesterol, my weight, my calorie intake, or my liver. Or I’m not going. Here on earth, I go to the Dr to hear that I should eat less and exercise more. I’ve heard it often enough that I’m starting my own weight loss program - watch your bookshelves, because I’m going to publish shortly after the Rapture! You know, in case anyone’s still here.
So please Lord, because I’m Not Gonna Miss watching my weight - call the Rapture on May 21st. And have the grill fired up - let’s cook the golden Ox while we watch Glee re-runs. Maybe there’s a plot in heaven.