An Open Letter to the Mayans: 12-22-12

Dear Mayans,

Thanks a-fucking-lot. It’s the 22nd of December, and I’m still here. More to the point, we’re all still here. I had planned and prepared to be the only family to survive, but thanks to an apparent world’s end worth of BS, it was all for not.

Thanks in part to the film 2012 and a fair share of verbal diarrhea in Apocalypse Preppers chat rooms, I took it upon myself to be ready for the impending end of the world starting some 18 months ago.

Now I am standing here with my dick in my hands. I thought I had this one right. Not like the Y2K fiasco when I threw out all my electronics for fear of them turning in to world dominating Go-Bots controlled by Skynet, I really planned this one out. I leveraged the equity in my home and applied my last Christmas bonus to build a level three biological bomb shelter. My kids wanted a goddamned pool! There are so many games of “spaceman” you can play in a haz-mat suit before the kids wish they had a frickin’ diving board.

I was ready, but now what am I supposed to do with a 50-gallon drum of tapioca pudding and 500 jars of pickled vegetables. My wife spent three weeks canning asparagus alone! My house wreaked for three months. Not to mention that no family needs 25-pounds of pickled eggs. My kids are going to be taking MRE’s to school in their lunch boxes until they graduate high school.

I sat on my porch in a gas mask with a shotgun for 12 hours yesterday! I quit my job three months ago, borrowed money for supplies from two guys named Tony, all to be ready to survive the end of the world. Now I need to file for unemployment and maybe I can rent out this bomb shelter as a spare bedroom to some hapless community college student. Shit!

I know what you’re thinking, “What a crazy bastard.” Oh, the pickled egg is on my face. I’ll admit that. Sure, I might have liquidated my 401K to buy automatic weapons, an SS-2000-FH air filtration unit, and 12-months of close quarters combat training for a family of five, but I don’t think I went overboard. I might have retained the services of a construction crew for eleven months to build the 3,000 sq. Ft. Underground shelter I am writing this from, but I really think it will help the resale value of our home. It’ll take the right buyer, but once the come along…cha-ching!

I guess there is a silver lining here. I’ll get to watch the Broncos game this weekend. Turns out my friends will not be eaten by zombies/swallowed up by the gnashing jaws of hell spawn/carried off to be cocooned and used to gestate alien offspring under a terraforming cooling tower. It’s not so bad that I’ll get to play cards at Bill’s house next Wednesday, but I don’t think he’ll accept Dinty Moore stew as a buy in; that’s the new cornerstone of my diversified, post-non-apocalypse portfolio.

I’m not saying I wanted the world to end, but it might have been nice for a little payoff this time around. Maybe it didn’t even need to end. A good round of biblical plagues would have sufficed; I’ve got three girls, so I wouldn’t have minded. Maybe a decent battle between heaven and hell at a roadside oasis featuring Gabriel and the next savior of humanity. Would have even done with a nuclear firefight or a tremendous earthquake. I was even ready for an outbreak of almost any disease imaginable. I really wasn’t prepared for a flood, but otherwise I might have appreciated something.

I guess we’ll get back to normal…again. Need to do some Christmas shopping, I guess. I’ll RSVP to my mother-in-law’s Christmas Eve Mass. She is never going to stop passively needling me about the week I locked her daughter in a sensory deprivation tank to simulate the world in the event of the sun dying. This is gonna be tough. It took almost two years to buy all new electronics after Y2K. This time, I just need to see if the Army has any need for surplus food, or if FEMA can give me a tax credit for donating 600-pounds of freeze-dried coffee. Also, if you’re looking for a place to live in the Denver area, spacious three bedroom underground shelter. VERY clean. All utilities included. $950 for a room. $1,150 for the master suit. No smoking. No pets. Email: SeeUInHELLSuckers69@yahoo.com

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