[NOTE: In an effort to be more efficient/lazy, I may have written this post last week. I'm pretty sure you won't be able to tell, though, so forget I even mentioned it.]
My dear wreckies, the end is officially nigh. In fact, I think it's safe to say that the end has never been MORE nigh than it is at this very moment. It is a moment FULL OF END NIGH-NESS.
With President [insert winner's name here] in office, our country will soon be nothing but a moldering pile of Taco Bell wrappers and Snookie CDs. The seas will boil over. The sun will burn. The stars will do crazy loop deloops, but, like, in a really bad way.
Frogs will rise up from ponds everywhere and hippity-hop all over our lawns.
And then they'll eat our daisies.
All birthdays will be cancelled, and replaced with "buttdays."
Our new national flag will be a giant flip-flop...STOMPING ON AN AMERICAN HEART.
And perhaps most terrifying of all: a legion of lop-sided zombie Barbie cakes will slide menacingly onward, the better to consume our very souls:
Yes, my friends, with the inevitable campaign of doom and destruction heralded by President [insert winner's name here], our only hope can now be in hunkering down with enormous cases of peanut butter while we await the apocalyptic....uh...hang on...
Did someone seriously make a WEDDING CAKE out of WHOOPIE PIES??
Best. Idea. EVER.
Ok, never mind that other stuff. We're good.
Thanks to Susan F., Debbie A., Anony M., Alexandra, & Gregory H. for putting things back in their proper perspective. Peace, love, and whoopie pies, baby. Awww yeeeaah.