Enraptured with Brendan Walsh

20 May


There’s been a lot of chatter this past week about the end of days.  If I have to hear that damn REM song, “It’s The End of The World As We Know It” again, my ear holes are gonna bleed, scab over and call it quits.  All sorts of doomsday theorist and Bible enthusiast (ie. Nut-jobs) have predicted that Rapture will take place on Saturday evening at 6pm, sharp.  Now, is that Eastern Standard Time or Pacific?  And I am guessing that since our Lord is all knowing, he is aware that since 1972, we no longer use the Greenwich Mean Time zone.  And it probably doesn’t really make a huge difference that not all countries observe day-light savings time either.  I just want to make sure that I am dressed in my purple cape and have my quarter rolls ready to go at the right time.  Oh, wait.  Wrong ride.

So do you believe it?  I mean, there has been some spooky stuff happening this past year: major earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, dead fish, missing bees, another Kennedy marriage on the skids and remember all of those birds dropping dead out of the sky?  It’s got to mean something, right?

Me?  I’m good either way.  I feel pretty confident with what I’ve been up to and the choices I’ve been making.  Like last night, I went to see Brendan Walsh at the Laughing Skull Lounge.  It was a banner decision and I’ll stand by it if I have to make like Albert Brooks in Defending Your Life later.

I’m not sure how Brendan feels about being whisked away for all of eternity, but I know how he feels about facial hair.  And it’s good to have a stand on that.  Currently, Brendon is rocking the full beard look, but he’s got big plans for starting his own style that can be named The Swoop.  I think my son could be interested in this, as I just covered his mustache envy recently.  Clearly, a lot of thought has been poured into this manscaping passion of Brendan’s and I think that I know why.

Guess who just got his medical marijuana card.  Well, it wasn’t me.  Look, Brendan lives in California and it’s just something you do there.  It doesn’t mean he’s packing a bong 24/7.  At least, that’s what he says.  Mainly, he’s just not too worried about his name ending up on a government list.  He’d rather be out in the open about the very rare times he lights up.  He’s chalant about the weed.  What’s chalant?  It’s the opposite of non-chalant.  Look it up.

But for someone who swears he smokes pot “only a little bit”, Brendan sure does have a heap of stories that start out with, “So, when I get really high…” And he revealed several things about his habits and proclivities that would suggest otherwise.  For instance, who runs out of Visine?  Who still watches Maury Povich?  What other adult rejoices at the prospect of having a birthday cake any time he wants one?  Who???

What if the Rapture really does happen this weekend and I’m not part of the estimated 2% that grow wings and get to sit on fluffy clouds stroking a harp?  What if I am ordered to that other place?  What could hell really be like?  Maybe it’s like sitting in a karaoke bar listening to Brendan singing the Cranberries’ “Zombie” over and over with my ear holes never being able to seal off.  Or what if it’s like being stuck in an airport terminal, trying to get around the scooters of people too fat to walk?  Or I could just be stuck on an eternally taxiing plane with Brendan and a pack of not fun flight attendants, all wearing Nancy Grace scowls.  Truth is, it might be fun if I was with Brendan to crack funny.  I’m not going to spend too much time with worry about the end of the world business just yet though.  According to the Mayans we’ve got until December 12, 2012 before it really hits the fan.  But, I’m good either way.

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