The End of Days – Scenario 1: Obama is the AntiChrist

The end of days is coming close. Our planet and the people on it have no idea what will happen on 12/21/2012. There are theories bouncing around the internet, in books and on television. Some of them are crazy (like aliens or Planet X) and some are actually plausible, like zombies. I firmly believe it will be zombies that will end the world but I might be wrong. I hate to even suggest that I am flawed and even the slightest ideas of me being wrong is laughable. Really! I mean, come on! Me being wrong is as mind-blowing as a woman without cooking skills. The zombie idea is legit. It’s scientifically possible. But still, there is that very slim chance that the dead will not rise and bring this world to a zombie-apocalyptic end. There are many possibilities as to how and when the world will finally reach the status of a dead parrot that ceases to be. The Mayan calendar ends on 12/21 of this year. That day is approaching fast and with only 23 days left before we kiss it all good-bye, you should ask yourself one thing. Do I make a difference? Over the next four days I will discuss four different scenarios that I believe are the four top ways humanity will end. Today’s entry will be about the man the people of the United States elected as the ruler of this country. When the 11th hour hits, will Obama be the one responsible for the end of the world?

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I’m 6.5 Million Dollars Richer!

Everyone is saying that there are no more good people in this world. I beg to differ. I received an email from Mrs. Christabel Williams. She is 62 years old and she is dying. Reading the email brought me to tears. She is someone we all need to strive to be like. The email showed me that there are still generous people in this world. I am going to share you the email she sent me and the large sum of money she is leaving me. Of all the 7 billion people in the world, Christabel thought of me. Why am I so special? What made her pick me? Do I really deserve the money she’s offering me to fulfill her plans of doing God’s work?

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I Got Rhythm But I Don’t Got Soul.

I tend to lose things all the time. I constantly lose pens at work and lose them in my car. Being that the pens are in my car, they aren’t really lost. They’re just misplaced. Somewhere beneath the piles of paper, empty bags, and junk mail, my pen(s) are just waiting for me to hold them tight and tell them everything is going to be okay. I have a thing for pens. It’s not a sexual thing. It’s not some quick fix I need to battle my cocaine habit. I don’t even do cocaine. If I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Then again, if I did have a cocaine habit, that would be the first thing I would say. I am running off track here. Enough about my non-exist habit.

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Straight to Hell

I wrote this many moons ago. It’s one of my favorites.

Here’s a story

I have to tell

About five bad people

Who went to hell

They had their chance

But they broke the law

Consequences happened

And they took a fall

Each of their bodies

We put in the ground

Now they lie deep

Buried 6 feet down

We start our story

In a troubled town

Three kids missing

Only two were found

The cops were baffled

They had no lead

They must find out

Who did the deed

Days went by

The killer claimed more

One was just eight

The other was four

But a man called in

Giving them a clue

The killer’s rampage

Was about to be through

The killer was caught

He held his head in shame

For he was the coach

Of the little league games

We meet a young lady

Flat on her back

Dependent on liquor

Addicted to crack

She’s not a good person

In fact she’s a whore

The child she gave birth to

Is in a dumpster next door

She spends her life

With junkies and crooks

Lying to police

To get off the hook

But the lies all ended

When the cops caught on

Her life and her stories

Were nothing but cons

So they tossed her in jail

And locked her up tight

But the very next day

She was killed in a fight

The next little story

Takes us back to school

About a bad little rebel

Who broke all the rules

He was a troubled kid

He’s was filled with such wrath

I must kill all and anyone

Who stands in my path

I must take charge

I must be the one

All he could think of

Is to steal his dad’s gun

The gun was fired

And his parents were dead

His clothes and his face were covered

In a dark color, red

He went to school

And aimed the gun high

He laughed and he snickered

As he watched the kids die

The police arrived

The situation was bad

Five kids murdered

Plus his mom and dad

We see a man

Walking down the street

Dressed all up

With his hair combed neat

He spots a girl

And plans the attack

One hand over her mouth

The other around her back

He picked her up

Tossed her in his car

Drove so long

And drove so far

The girl yelled for help

Doing all she could

The man drove on

Then pulled in to the woods

He laid the girl

On a bed of dirt

Took off her shoes

And ripped off her skirt

He did his wrong

He felt real bad

This was all the love

He had ever had

He stabbed the girl

With a butcher knife

Saw his crime

Then took his life

We end our story

On a bleaker side

About a boy

On his first bike ride

He was so happy

Going down the street

The car never saw him

He was tossed from his seat

Through the air

His body went

Brains and blood

All scattered the pavement

He saw the boy

And drove away

Leaving him there

Alone to decay

But like the rest

The man was caught

Justice is all

The parents sought

So in the end

They faced their crimes

Took a life

And did the time

All five suffered

For the lives they lead

No one was pardoned

Now all five are dead

Some paid the price early

Others died in their cell

But all will meet later

When they arrive in hell

February 2001