by CLINT YOUNTS
If my calendar is right, it is currently August 2012. If an ancient Mayan calendar is right, we earthlings have about three months left before some apocalyptic event wipes us off this planet. I don’t have much trust in some calendar created by people who weren’t smart enough to sacrifice crazy mystics instead of beautiful virgins. If the Mayans were smart folks, they wouldn’t have killed off fertile females who could produce more Mayans. Instead, the old men sat on the steps of a pyramid while their population dwindled like a bad gambler’s chip count.
According to some much wiser men, this Mayan prophecy is just a pile of horse excrement. Archeologist Wade Davis at the National Geographic Society discredits the Mayan calendar and says there’s no reason to run off and hide in some cave in December. Other scholars report the calendar has no credibility whatsoever. They all say there’s no need to worry. We’ll all still be here on Earth come morning of December 21, 2012.
Now, one day last April, as I sat upon my deck, smelling like brush killer and diesel after spraying mesquites all morning, I began to ponder (I do that frequently after inhaling diesel fumes) about those Mayans. Do you suppose a race of extinct humanoids who were real good at stacking rocks in the shape of a pyramid could actually predict the future?
Well, since I am what some folks refer to as a brilliant sage and what others refer to as a blooming idiot, I did some planning just in case some Mayan with a stack of papyrus and a stick of charcoal knew what he was doing. I came up with a scheme that would allow me to live the life of Riley for the next few months. Sure, it’s a bit of a gamble, but, hey, you only live once.
Here’s the plan I came up with to enable me to enjoy what time I have left here on Earth:
- Stop eating healthy foods and go back to chowing down on baby-back ribs and chimichangas with extra guacamole.
- File an extension of my 2011 tax return.
- Cash in my retirement fund. They say you can’t take it with you, so I’ll use it while I can.
- Let Maw take advantage of Ashley Furniture’s advertisement that says “No Payment Until 2013.”
- Cancel my life insurance policy.
- Sign up for DirecTV’s NFL Package that’s discounted for the next three months.
- Make reservations for an early-December Caribbean cruise and charge it on my new VISA card.
- Mail a marriage proposal to Sandra Bullock. If I don’t die in the apocalypse, I’d probably get killed by Maw, so I may have to wait until Dec. 19 to mail the letter.
- Stock up on Lone Star beer and beef jerky.
- Ask the boss for my Christmas bonus on Thanksgiving this year.
- Quit my job and spend my spare time watching football and drinking beer.
- Post a picture on Facebook of me and Prince Harry shooting pool.
- Spend the week before doomsday at Port Aransas so I’ll have a good tan as I’m getting fitted in my pearly white outfit and wings. Without a tan, I’ll look like a six-foot Casper the Ghost up in heaven.
- The last thing I plan to do on December 20 is to rent a tux. Do you suppose the folks at Men’s Warehouse will mind if I’m a little late returning the tux the next day?
Most of you realize I am joking about doing these things, except for stocking up on Lone Star beer, but I bet there are lots of gullible sorts who truly believe the world will end as the Mayans predicted. To those people, if you have extra cash lying around on December 20, feel free to send it to me in care of this newspaper. And to all you with a lick of sense, I’ll see you on December 21.
Clint Younts is hoping to get out of buying his wonderful wife an expensive Christmas present. She wants something nicer than a bug zapper, for once.
