It’s official, they Mayans have declared 2012 doomsday! Or should that be doomsyear?

It seems the 2012-End-World-Surviving-Disaster/dp/1461187303/”target=”_blank”rel=”external”title=”Mayan Calendar” >Mayan calendar has the end of the world booked for 2012; on the 21st of December to be precise.
Believers in this calamity are of course cancelling their house and car insurance for the year. Insurance companies are trembling and going out of business due to the loss of revenue and the rest of us are wondering why the mass media haven’t told us yet about it yet. I mean, it’ll be quite difficult to make a claim on our insurance when we’ve all been reduced to our component atoms won’t it, so why bother paying the premiums?

The good news is that those goggle eyed weirdos in sandwich boards announcing, ‘The END OF THE WORLD IS NIGH’ will now be able to provide us with a precise date. It used to be such a vague phrase, so it’s quite satisfying to know precisely when I’ll pop my clogs.

One would think that the impending end of the world is a bad thing to hear people go on about it. Just imagine the partying the night before the fateful day! I intend to take out a huge loan a week before, sell all my possessions and tell my boss just exactly what I think of him. I’ll probably punch him on the nose and goose his secretary on the way out.

So, how precisely will the world end? Will we be struck by a huge asteroid? Perhaps a particularly nasty disease will wipe us all out? Massive crop failure anybody? Does anybody know? Does anybody care?

My Uncle Henry, who is no fool despite what the psychiatrists say, announced he has the perfect solution. He’s moving to Albania. He reckons they’re 50 years behind the rest of the world so he’ll buy himself another half century.
He’s announced he’ll not be making any New Year’s resolutions for 2012. There’ll be no point in vowing to lose weight. Who cares how slim he’ll be on Doomsday Eve? I will be doing exactly the opposite and will stuff myself with junk food and get totally blootered every day, the end of all things being the perfect excuse to act like a idiot.

I’ll contact all those girls who have refused my advances and tell them it’s their last chance to have me and to literally go out with a bang. That new girl in Accounts said she wouldn’t go out with me if I was the last man on Earth. Well, surely she’d reconsider if I convinced her it was her last day on Earth? Mind you, telling a girl she’s about to die so how about a quick shag behind the photocopier isn’t the best pick-up line I’ve ever used. It’ll probably have the same effect as all the others so what the heck.

I’m looking forward to the reaction of my local bar-tender when everybody runs up a huge tab on Doomsday Eve. There again, the morning of December 22nd should be interesting when all the fools, myself included, wake up and realise that they’ve made complete and total plonkers of themselves.

Will I be given my job back? Will the secretary forgive me for goosing her? How on Earth does one contact a family member in deepest Albania?

So, let’s hear it for the end of the world, 2012 Doomsday!

Yeah… right.