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The natural world. Looking pretty for 3.5b years.

The Bucket List

Author: Guest Writer/Friday, December 21, 2012/Categories: Uncategorized

Got this email just now from my homie. Thought I’d share in case you’re interested in coming to the party.


to: buddies (list)


Subject: World’s End Party

Sup bros!?

LeRoy T. Jenkins here, on parole but still going strong.

Like 6 million other Americans, you and I know that the world is ending. We need to party like it's our last night, cause it is.

(BTW, my friend Hugh said wrongly that the world was supposed to end at midnight last night. It's tonight, Hugh -- get your facts straight.)

So here's how we are going to work the party tonight:

I’ve worked up a "bucket list." These are things that I would like to do before midnight, when a planet called Planet X or Planet Nibiru slams into the Earth, and we're out.

[Photo from UFOSightingsDaily]

This bucket list will be screwed into the wall of Danny's house – sorry, Danny, you weren't getting your deposit back anyway. Whoever checks off the most items from the bucket list wins the party and wins, as prize, a football I got free and a yoga mat that is only slightly soiled.


Here is the list:

1. Eat four Baconators.
2. Call everyone you ever secretly hated and tell them that you hate them. Call everyone you ever secretly loved and tell them that you love them. For everyone you secretly don't care all that much about, "like" them on Facebook.
3. Get a YOLO face tattoo.
4. Enter a bank wearing a balaclava and holding a gun. Sneer at the teller, "I'm here to make a deposit, Jack!" When he starts handing you cash, slide it back and say, "Are you deaf? I said deposit." Hand over a deposit envelope. Ask, pleasantly, "Is this not how this works?"
5. Kick a pigeon.

You may say: “LeRoy, you’re already living your days like they’re your last. I’ve even seen you kick pigeons.” True, true. But it wasn't a terrible decision, right? Pigeons are buttholes. And if you take the cosmic view of history, you know that your 80 years on this planet is, basically, a few seconds. So I drank too much and saved too little and I didn't floss. So what?

Was I that different from everybody else? Even, like, politicians?

If you read the newspaper, it looks like we all drew up a bucket list, sometime around 1500, or maybe 1500 BC, which wasn't much different from my list for tonight.

It was something like:

1. Conquer all. Rape a little, pillage a little, enjoy the local fruits and vegetables, and why not take a slave? They work cheap.
2. Is there a minority you're not too fond of? Have you considered genocide?
3. See a tree? Cut it down. See some oil? Burn it.
4. If you're rich and fat:
        A. Build yourself a massive mausoleum, but not roads to get there. 
        B. Engineer a financial collapse. Wait for bailout.
        C. Underfund education. Overpay for bling.

5. When your smartest people tell you something that feels wrong – when
astronomers say that the earth revolves around the sun, when lawyers say that democracy is a right, when preachers say that all men are created equal, when artists say that every war might not be a good war – kill those people.
6. When your smartest people tell you that it's getting hot in here because some invisible gas portends a hot, chaotic future, kill them, too. If killing smart people is currently unfashionable, ridicule them by pointing out that
it's snowing somewhere. (It's always snowing somewhere.)

Let’s be honest -- that way of living worked out spectacularly well, at least for certain people. We’re super-rich now and super-fat, like, uber-fat, like so fat we’re affecting the orbits of other planets and LeRoy T. Jenkins – no skinny dude myself -- has lately had to bend my rule about “No Fat Chicks.”

So, bring your game face tonight and spring for the expensive beer. If there’s any downside to my lists, it won't matter tomorrow, because there is no tomorrow.

It’s how we’ve always rolled, my brothers.


P.S. Who’s bringing Hot Pockets?


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