We’re jumping right in today because there’s not a lot of time left before we die and also because I want you to experience a thing that happened exactly as Husband experienced it. You know, for a nice change of pace.
ME: Brindle wants a fish named Doom.*
ME: Brindle wants a fish named Doom.
HIM: … I’m sorry, I thought you said Brindle wants a fish named Doom.
HIM: Why does she want a fish?
ME: Probably because I didn’t offer her a ferret, to be honest.
JK, I’m not that mean. But I am torn: on the one hand, I really want to leave this as a guessing game sort of thing, see what y’all come up with when asked how it is that my greyhound came to request a pet fish—and specifically one named Doom—but on the other hand the world is ending soon and I’ve got a lot of material stored up that you’ll never see and do I really want to waste two whole posts on this joke?
I do not.
For those who don’t know, the Rapture has been re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-rescheduled for next week. I was bummed when I first heard that the world would end this month, but then I checked Fox News and was reassured that The End will hold off until after my birthday, so that’s alright then.
As long as I’m not getting cheated out of presents, you know?
Anyway, being a good friend I called Alexis to make sure she was aware of the impending Rapture. You know, so she could prepare.
Alexis hit the google hard, ready to debunk the awesome Rapture news, because she’s a Protestant now and ruining my good time is just one of the perks.**
ME: Yup, April 23rd, it’s Rapture Time.
ALEXIS: Hang on, I’m reading…
ME: Don’t know why you bother; you need to be finding everybody’s bike helmets. In case you’re inside when you get raptured. Don’t wanna bonk your heads. (quietly) If heretics get raptured.
ALEXIS: Okay, so this is all because the sun, moon, Virgo and Leo are in alignment?
ME: It’s space star science! Halleluiah!
ALEXIS: Right, but the same alignment occurs every year in September, October… and sometimes in December.
ME: (pouts) …Right, but now it’s in April. Goggies, who wants to go outside before the Rapture gets us?
DOGS: (leap up for outside time, because they know what’s up)
ALEXIS: Okay, but there’s also supposed to be a new planet.
ME: (excited) Like Pluto?
ALEXIS: No. (reading) The mysterious planet X has been debunked by NASA. Repeatedly debunked by NASA.
ME: NASA’s not getting raptured. (lets dogs back in)
ALEXIS: Okay, so this article is hilarious, but it’s trying to make this sound serious and… it’s just… (laughs)
ME: No rapture?
ALEXIS: No rapture.
ME: No doom?
ALEXIS: No doom.
ME: But… Doom!
ALEXIS: I know, I’m sorry.
ME: Brindle wants doom.
ALEXIS: She wants doom, huh?
ME: She’s ver’ excited about it. Brindle, you want DOOM?
ME: Brindle wanna fish named Doom?
ALEXIS: Why a fish?
ME: Ham wants a fish anyway. Dammit, I don’t have time to set up a tank before the Rapture!
ALEXIS: But we’re not getting raptured.
ME: Oh yeah. Still, it’s kind of a hassle. Not gonna lie, I’m sort of hoping for the Rapture if it gets me out of fish tank duty.
And that’s why I came at Husband, seemingly out of the blue, with the news that our dog wants a fish named Doom.
Husband, by the way, has suggested we just get her a stuffed fish and name it Doom.
Why didn’t I think of that?
** My best friend used to be Catholic, and I’m the sort of Catholic who has an IUD and cusses non-fucking-stop, so you can imagine we have fun with her conversion; I call her a filthy heretic, she calls me a papist, I ask her to explain the doctrinal importance of nailing hate-mail to someone’s front door… it’s exactly the sort of running joke that sounds insane if you’re not in on it.