It’s been a few weeks since I’ve written about any new signs of that onrushing Apocalypse, so I foolishly thought things might be getting better.
Blog Guy, I could use some of your famous career advice.
My mom gave me a glossy brochure entitled, “The Glamorous Field of Dismantling Old Nuclear Bombs,” and I signed up for their training course.
Blog Guy, I’ve been seeing photos of well-armed rebels in Yemen in recent days, and I notice a lot of swollen cheeks. Are those plucky lads in need of major dental care?
Sarge, if it’s okay with you, I’m gonna take a little cigarette break.
Okay Lonnie, there’s not much goin’ on here right now. Say, are you just gonna stand that rocket-propelled grenade up on end like that?
Honey, I’m goin’ shoppin’ downtown. You want anything?
I sure do, Earl. We need skim milk, tuna fish, Hostess Ding Dongs, and darn, there was something else…
Guys, listen up! We’ve captured some sort of depot and bunker that belonged to Gaddafi!
Blog Guy, I’m a recent college graduate who needs career advice. I picked up a colorful brochure entitled “The Exciting Field of Refurbishing Rocket-Propelled Grenades,” and I wondered if I should look into that.
Those signs of the onrushing Apocalypse that I like to chronicle here are coming so fast I can barely keep track of them these days.