And so this is the way it will be, the day after the Day the World's Warranty Expired.
After yesterday's cataclysmic events, which have already been rehashed enough so we needn't mention details (but seriously, who saw the thing with Roseanne Barr and the 35 midgets coming? Those wacky Mayans must have!) the world is doing the best it can to move on. Though the Internet has seemingly failed, it appears our messages might be going back in time (kinda like we thought was happening with the Large Hadron Collider before it succeeded in creating a black hole--thank god it was so close to France, amIrite?), so, My Herd, I trust this missive finds you in some good times before all the horror, before the Pelosi coup, before Rush Limbaugh rebelled, before the movie Avatar flopped worse than Dune. Greetings from the post apocalypse!!!
To update everyone on how you will be doing, I'm just going to look at an old list of bloggers and ring them on my telepathic phone (because they've been invented by now, surely) and see what's up.
Apparently Stew Baker finally fits in, due to the large number of freaks who were created in the nuclear war with Mexico. Inbreeding doesn't look like shit next to a fifth testicle, especially when it's on your forehead.
CBear47 is apparently rocking in a corner, trying to explain how none of this ever happened, and how it was this way before, just we didn't know it yet. Apparently, he also blames himself from trying to divide by zero. At least he didn't sit around with a calculator, creating numerical expressions of English words, and punching square root until he's blue in the face to prove how God will return in 2012. After all, he returned last year, just to pick up a few of his things, and then left.
On a related note, who ever thought Guidos were the New Chosen People? Oh well, at least there's not high collars and fake tans in the post-apocalypse, I mean-- the horseflies the size of your head are bad enough, could you imagine if we had those douches besides? Damn!
Dr. Roman Gorgeous was found dead in a pool of blood, with the message, "Who's Laughing Now?" scrawled on his wall in feces, signed by "Charlie." But that's been ears now...
Maiorano was unfortunately killed in a looting-related homicide by 2 midgets who stood on each others's shoulders, so as to be twice as tall as their victim. Apparently, hold the Caps Lock did not, in fact, mean "instant win." Strangely, all that was taken in the attack was his soul patch, so the midgets could look old enough to buy beer.
Now this word from our sponsors (who figure sending an ad back in time will help them be richer when the apocalypse hits).
Do you suffer from back pain? Does sitting on your ass all day make you wish you were thin enough to stand up? Then you need to buy yourself the ASSORTHOTIC from BACKJOY.
Our product is simply a bucket-seat shaped orthotic that helps maintain the natural curve of your spine, eliminating back pain!!! I know what you're thinking, "I'm just too plain fat to use that!" But have no fear! If it's your girth that concerns you, right now you can get two for the price of one, but one under each cheek, we think that'll work!!! If it's your weight, fear not! We drove over it with a 60,000 pound truck--three times!!!--and it still works great!
Okay, so technically, the axle only weighs about 10,000 pounds, but still, even 5,000 per tire, you'll be fine. You're HOW BIG? Jesus man, just go walking once in a while, damn, seriously!?
Straight Jacket Girl apparently has adapted well to the post-apocalypse. She told the school to go to hell, her ex and his bimbo disappeared "mysteriously," and she now lives off possum and pine cones, just like when she was a girl in West Virginia.
Awful Jackass, who was relieved that the apocalypse finally cured him of ennui, was tragically killed as he fought off a Lion with a chainsaw, armed only with a 2x4, a ball-peen, and .22 shells. Who would have thought Daunte Culpepper would take another demotion so hard, huh?
BoHank Eeton, of Podunk, Pennsyltucky, is likewise relieved to be past the apocalypse. Though he never did foresee how the Health Care Fiasco would end (it was Bush's fAAAult) he is nonetheless glad to be teaching children how to survive in the wilds, killing and cleaning, hunting and fishing.
Mr. Eeton extends his invitatation to whoever voted for Nancy Pelosi to "please come by the school (my porch) so you can help me demonstrate how to kill more better." Really, he is doing them a favor, as most liberal shits don't know how to do anything but be bureaucrats and tell other people they are killing the planet.
Sindicate has so far managed quite well to the end of the world. He apparently has rounded up 23 strippers (so far) and invites any other "slutty bitches of any sort" to come by for protection.
In an ironic note, Frogbob has, in fact, become a vagabond mercenary with a heart of gold and a weak spot for underage, but really smoking waifs (think Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver). HE even lost an eye, just to look cooler. Who'da thunk it?
A final, sad not to end this broadcast, after this.
Are you tired of actually having to put forth the minimal effort to shave? Do you have no grasp of how to shave thick hair? Are you completely dependant on machines to do everything for you but wipe your ass when you shit (assuming this goes back before we try to sell those to you)?
Then you need to try ROTOSHAVE. This fantastic new machine is half razor, half combine, and all you'll ever need to probably still fuckyourselves up if you cant shave in the first friggin' place. Of course, we can't be held liable, because if you're dumb enough to buy this thing, you're too dumb to make a good case in court.
Our dear friend Waaaallboy was lost in the first minutes of the apocalypse, when he tried to hug a grizzly bear, believing that the Age of Aquarius had begun. The bear then smacked him upside the head (jealous, anyone?) and into the path of a derailed Superspeed Train headed for Dallas out of Chicago (and he was still in Idaho!). The train then flung him atop the New Trade Center flagpole, which is of course still sitting in Kansas City, KS, awaiting delivery. Pole in rectum, he walked outside where he was mugged by a fifth grader who shot him with a gun he bought with Obaaama stimulus money. Ironic, huh?
In the sad news I promised, however, it seems that no more Internet means no more Eastside Dave or Dirty Sanchez or Ugdork, even. Seems like we may have to go out and find people in our own communities to entertain us with perverse, inane stories and bizarre rants. Fortunately, I know where Webb lives, o I can still get my Internet porn.
And that's the way it will be, the Day After The Day The Earth's Warranty Expired.
Obaaaama is dead. Long live the Obaaaaama.