We all have a month to live, i.e. my birthday is the end of the world
On the 21st day of the 12th month of the 2012th year of our lorde, the world shall end. Or so some people say.
Regardless, for the last 5 or so years, I've been reminded that my birthday marks the end of the world. Imagine seeing a prequel of your birthday in the form of a movie years beforehand. For a while now I've known full well that some people believe that on my birthday, we all go bye bye. Disappear into thin air, blow up, get eaten, eat each other. Or something. Crazy right? Or is it completely sane? Nobody knows. Well maybe Warren Buffet does, but he isn't warning anyone. He's too busy.
What am I going to do to prepare for the end of the world you ask? I'm not really sure. I have had plenty of time to prepare, so there is no excuse if I'm not prepared. Every year on my birthday I know it's one year closer to when the zombies will overtake us. Or something.
For my birthday I want a cake, a pony, and apparently a shotgun. Or a rifle. A stake to stab shiny vampires in the heart, silver to ward off werewolves, and sunblock in case the sun goes supernova. Sunblock will work right?
Nobody knows what is going to happen. My personal favorite is that the world will stop spinning the way it has since forever and start spinning the other way. This would cause all of us to be flung into space.. So get a long rope and maybe you can survive that one if you tie yourself to that big tree over there.
If we all die in a month due to the rise of Cthulhu, then “I hope you go first so that you don't have to see your family and friends perish before your eyes” will become the new “how are you doing?”.
Myself, I don't believe any of this drivel. If you want proof, I just scheduled my next dental checkup for February. That's got to count for something.