I think it might be the End of Days. For realz.

And I have reasons. First of all, this summer saw movies called This Is The End and The World’s End. And Oblivion, and After Earth, and World War Z. All of them were about the apocalypse. But I’m not just talking about movie stuff. I encountered my own personal signs. CHILLING signs.

1. There’s a church near my house. The church complex is made up of three buildings that are around a grass park. I was walking home one evening and birds were swirling like crazy all around the church buildings. Hundreds and hundreds of birds. Then they all landed on the church roof and waited for… something. It was Hitchcockian. Is that a word? It is now.

church2 church1

2. I was riding on Metro North one day and I chose to sit in a facing three/two-seater. A mom and a little girl were already in the same area. See chart below.


See? Everyone was happy. No one was touching. As soon as I got comfy, the little girl got up, moved next to her mother which means her little legs were touching mine, and STARED AT ME unblinkingly for the rest of the forty-five minute trip. It was horrifying. I picked up my phone and obtrusively snapped a photo and she didn’t flinch. I don’t normally have a problem with clementine-haired folk but this kid may have changed me. METRO-NORTH-RIDING DEMON SPAWN. MAY YOU RUN OUT OF SUNBLOCK.


3. Thar be exposed boobses in Times Square. It’s only a matter of time before Disney is ousted and the peep shows are back. Give it twenty-five years and Times Square will return to its decadent fornicatin’ ways, I guarantee you that.


4. If you’ve ever met me you know that I do not much care for children. They’re fine creatures, but they excrete things out of both ends like a sea cucumber, and they should be litter box trained by, like, three months, right? My friend JR had the little boy that I painted the mural for, and JR asked me to be the kid’s godparent. Here’s a pic of me and the baby.


Yeah. I immediately said, “Did everyone else say no? This is a very bad parenting decision on your part.” They stuck by their guns. Then I asked if I became the godparent could I deduct the the kid off of income tax (the answer, sadly, is no.) Finally I said yes and then lit a million candles that this kid’s parents don’t die because I don’t want to take care of a non-litter box trained humanoid.

Someone asked me to be godparent of their child while not being held at gunpoint AND there are boobies in Times Square. It’s just like the Mayans predicted.

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