Why be nice to your mother?
Mother: "It's interest on the uterine rent!"
Father: "I don't think you're paying down that principal at all."
These are the things we discuss on the day that the Rapture was foretold, at 6pm, respecting time zones across the world:
M.: "At what point do people stop listening to the guy who can't get the calculations right?"
L.: "Well, he's calculated that, and he's still within the safe margins."
Later that day, as a possible reprimand from On High for my insolence, my rapturously delicious food was raptured right out of me, via violent vomiting, leaving me behind, queasy and sinful. Apparently the Rapture gives me food poisoning. I'm still here and still blogging; wherever you are, you're still reading, too.
This post's theme word is gotterdammerung, "the complete destruction of an institution, regime, order, etc." That saag executed a gotterdamerung on my digestive process yesterday.