This Saturday is the Rapture, that biblical calling home of all the saved and righteous Christians, living and dead, here on dirty, sinful Earth. Luckily, Craig's Hlist has been saved since, like, second grade, so you other guys who aren't are sort of screwed.
Besides, when the Rapture rolls in on Saturday sometime, CHL will be on an Alabama beach watching Motorhead open for Foo Fighters. You mad?
After careful study of the Bible, Pastor Harold Camping has predicted that the Rapture will occur this Saturday. The retired 89-year old civil engineer really has nothing to lose in predicting the date, since it can only help his Family Radio broadcasting network. And to be perfectly honest, at his age he could die any minute, so it's not like he will be waiting long to get into the pearly gates either way.
In the Bible, Revelations 9:5 says, "And to them it was given that they should not kill them, but that they should be tormented five months: And their torment was as the torment of a scorpion, when he striketh a man."
So we have five more months or so until October 21, 2011, which according to Scripture (Camping's version), will be the end of the world. So at least you will all still get to see Kanye West at ACL, and maybe even a Radiohead show at the Woodlands before then. Like we said, CHL will be in Heaven hanging out with GG Allin and Marilyn Monroe. Someone please live-tweet the Kanye set if you can.
Yes, they have Twitter in Heaven. Follow @stpeter.
Now Saturday you will be seeing spirits flying out of cemeteries, coming from urns, crypts, vaults, burial plots, and maybe even the ocean, as the righteous ones get called into Heaven. The rest of you can enjoy quicker commutes on the highways Monday morning, along with shorter lines at McDonald's.
The only downside is that Apocalypse you get in October. Have fun with the fire, blood, screams, and new Nickelback album just in time for the holiday shopping season.
Anyhow, CHL made you all a handy playlist for you to deal with all of us believers jetting off to a better place, where the Popeye's chicken strips flow like wine and all your Reese's peanut butter eggs are always frozen just right. Oh, and you can smoke pot up there too.
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You still mad?