Paranoia & Bad Movies

March 18th 2011:
Argh. Ever puke so hard you pop a blood vessel in your eyeball?

In other news, Papa Paranoid called the other day and asked me to make an "escape plan" for when the tsunami-earthquake-volcano trifecta inevitably hits Seattle.

I say inevitably with a large grain of salt.

And were that to happen, would there be anywhere to go? Pops suggested running for Canada. Unless Mother Nature were to kindly wait until the weekend (or weekdays after 4pm, please) to throw such an epic tizzy-fit, I doubt I would even make it out of downtown, let alone all the way to Canada (because nothing bad ever happens in Canada, right?).

Maybe we could hide out in the public library and burn books for warmth until my paleoclimatologist dad sends the blackhawk helicopters out to save me and my friends... um, hang on, that was just a terrible-ish movie.

Revision...

I will give John Cusak a ring and ask him to fly my ass out of here on a stolen Cessna, so I can sneak onto the giant arcs the rich people are building in the mountains... oh wait... that was just a really terrible movie....

Revision...

I will stay where I am and wait for Jesus to come and deem me righteous (no Lake of Fire, please), and therefore save me from the disaster that surely means the end of the word, so I can gather in the air with all the other righteous folks for the Rapture... or , errr.... that's just a story in an old ass book...

Man, we do love glorifying disaster, don't we? I mean, as long as it doesn't actually affect us.