Tagged: Apocalypse

Judge Lest Ye Be Judged

Sad news: only one more day until the world ends, dear readers. Indeed, it’s days like today when I really wish the Mayans knew what the hell they were talkin’ about.

Instead, we all wait in weary anticipation of a 2,000 year old Jewish zombie (they call him “The Jesus”) so he can come down from the skies and act as Judgey McJudges-a-lot.

Ordinarily, I ain’t much of a judgmental person.  I let folks be as they be, even if they be crazy.  But if The Jesus — a supposed paragon of virtue — is gonna come down and act a judgin’ fool, then I’d like to get in on that action too, just for today.

So here ya go.  Let the judging begin!

Yankees fans, I’m judging you.  You lost six measly games in a row and suddenly the sky is falling?!  When my Cubs fans friends (yes, I have a few) watch their team lose six games in a row they call it “April”.  And don’t even get me started on M’s fans or Pirates fans… jeesh.

Mitt Romney, I’m judging you.  Come on, dude.  How can you pass universal healthcare in your state and still call yourself a Republican?!?  Not only that, but how am I supposed to take you seriously when you believe in a book that was “translated” by a whackjob “aided” by an invisible bearded man in the sky?

National Football League… oh yes, I’m judgin’ the hell out of you.  Didn’t you learn ANYTHING from baseball?!?!  Good grief!  Don’t you know that the strike of ’94 nearly KILLED the national pastime?  You may benefit from having less intelligent constituents, but even the ignorant have a hard time forgiving betrayal.  Just ask Whitney Houston.

Donald Trump, I’m judging you.  The birther thing, well, I can see past that.  But your hair.  Seriously.  It’s not funny anymore.  It’s disturbing.  I’m sure there’s a crime being committed there.

And finally, as we prepare to say ‘see ya’ to the cosmos…

MLB throwback uniforms, I’m judging you.  If we’re gonna bring back the baby blue road duds… if we’re gonna bring back the Oakland puke yellow tops… if we’re gonna bring all this stuff from the 70s and 80s back in earnest, then we need to stop making them in the baggy size.  Everyone in his/her right mind knows that those only work if we can see some protruding jock action.

Hate me ‘cuz it’s Thursday, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.



Squishy Apocalypse

Independence_Day.jpgPeople worry about the end of days arriving in 2012.  I mean, the Mayan calendar is a well accepted authority on all things eschatology related.  I pretty much depend on it and my readings of the movie Independence Day for all major life decisions.

But what if we’re off by a year on the date?  Our calendar is based on a virgin birth some 2000 odd years ago.  That’s pretty squishy as dating systems go.  In fact, if you really want to base your system on a virgin birth, you could have reset it any time while I was in high school.  We had at least three different girls who got pregnant and swore they had never been with a guy.

See, here’s the thing.  Mayans are cool and all but I like to rely on America.  And American sources tell us that the Rapture is actually coming this year.  May 21, 2011 to be precise.  So what if she’s right and we’ve been living as though we had to make it one more year but really it’s only 4.5 more months.  Yeah, kind of makes you rethink NOT taking that last shot of tequila on New Year’s Eve, huh?

We here at RSBS want to encourage you to get out there and live every day like it’s your last.  Because it might be.  Has anyone checked out the Zoroastrian calendar recently?


Sounding the Alarm

As though any further proof was needed that we live in a crazy, mixed-up world, I submit the following:

cabrera_scratches.jpgMiguel Cabrera has an alcohol problem but says he feels like a new man after a stint in rehab.

farnsworth cries.jpgKyle Farnsworth has somehow avoided resorting to alcoholism and even has a legitimate shot at becoming a starting pitcher.

I don’t mean to sound the alarm too early but if these two events taken together aren’t a sign of the apocalypse, I’m not sure what is.  Baseball: Drama as compelling off the field as on.