Apocalypto

The planets have aligned. The stars are in synchronous orbit. The earth is still in an equinox state. A Portal has formed in my home. It is possible the very Gates of Hell will open. Fucking Stargate, The Fifth Element, The Four Horsemen, all that shit is coming down. It is here.

What is the cause and yet the very creation of these apocalyptic conditions you ask? It is the most random of occurrences that may signal the end of existence, The Furor, Fashion Show, and my female Maltese have achieved menstrual synchronization. A human-canine estrogen explosion. Worlds are colliding.

The house is like a strange vortex, and I expect Rod Serling at every turn. If my house was ever haunted, those fucking ghosts are long gone. My male dog is a nervous wreck and likes it under the couch, my son is pretty much barricaded in his room or out of the house. A rare wise move from Robotman Jr.

I, on the other hand have to navigate this Science Fiction Horror Show like Mad Max or the Omega Man. Or maybe more like Eddie. I’m on day one of this ordeal and it seems like eons have gone by. I tread carefully, quietly and am praying regularly as I await the Dark Age to pass while avoiding Time Tunnels or Wormholes around the house. Escaping a Borg Cube would be a cakewalk.

I do have a light at the end of the tunnel. Next week my friend Nytefall is visiting from Bumfuck upstate New York and we are going to see Iron Maiden, whose lyrics by the way, are mild compared to the week that lays ahead of me.

If I survive I hope to be posting about whatever burnt out shit Nytefall does on his visit. I am, and shall always be, the Robotman.