I would spend several hours with my love. Then, I would allow her to discorporate with dignity, as 24 hours would be the longest anxiety attack ever, and we’d rather not deal with that, thanks.
Then I would probably cleanly and with great care spend some time with my kids. I would probably have to make peace with their mom, but so be it.
Calls to all my loved ones.
A stolen car, a bottle of vodka, and a high speed drive down 101. I think a twin turbo Supra would do it quite nicely.
I’d rearragne my portfolio to reflect less of a long-term growth outlook.
[sigh] I wish I really had a portfolio to rearrange[/sigh]
Locate:
Girlfriend (hopefully wife at this point)
2 folding chairs
Portable, battery-driven CD player, with speakers
Duke Ellington CD, any will do
Many batteries
Six pack alcoholic beverage, as many as required
Cooler for six packs
Big, empty, grassy field.
Take:
Girlfriend’s hand in one hand, alcoholic beverage in other.
Long last look
Wait:
__
The knowleadge that the world is going to end could send you into a “bad trip” and you might spend your final 6 (or something) hours in complete terror.
Want I would want for those 24 hours? Me, my family, and endless supply of videotapes of pop culture movies (I have never seen any “Bill & Ted” movies).
That, or to be completely drugged out of my mind (I mean to be really smashed). Either way is good.
Efrem
I would probably avoid the stong hallucenogenics, and stick with pot, or maybe some other stuff but nothing that would give me a bad trip. I would probably smoke a lot of pot, eat a lot of red meat, and smoke a carton of cigarettes.
But if you tell, and rioting, looting, and who knows what all breaks out, people will be hurt and worse. Look at all the folks who have posted here that they would be looking for women to debaunch, drugs to consume, and highways to travel at excessive speeds. Fine for them, but what about the innocents that get in their way?
And I have never been comfortable with the Christian equivalent of a “get out of jail free” card. I mean, if you can knowingly and with malice of forethought commit whatever sins strike your fancy, then confess at the last minute and be totally absolved of everything, well, as we say around here, “That just ain’t right!”. If you want to have a place reserved with your name on it in whatever your concept of heaven is, then you should live EVERY day as if it was your last and be prepared to meet your maker as is if something bad happens.
Therefore I still say don’t tell. Telling will likely wreak havoc world wide and cause great harm to many people, not to mention provoking severe anxiety attacks in many others (as mentioned by Tristan), while not telling deprives some folks of making last minute atonement attempts. In my mind those two just don’t balance out. So, I ain’t telling.
I would launch that rocket ship which I built to carry my infant son safely away to another planet.
“I’d sleep with you only if you were the last person on earth…”
“So the planet is going to explode. Jor-El, you’re such a kidder…Go home. You’ve been working too hard. You need a rest. Better yet, go work on that jalopy you’ve got in the garage.”
Phone a minister I know who is capable of giving a sermon that is SCARY. Contact the media with my proof and get him to go on every television and radio station in the entire world and tell everybody that they’ve got 24 hours to get into Heaven.
Then pray for a LONG, LONG time.
anounce it so there would be alot of rioting… then sit in a tall building and watch everything burn while opera music plays loudly.
seems the most cinematic way to go, really
“Nero, sir, your dancing girls are here…”
See my family, get in loads of beers, get naked and chillllllll
Kudos to zen101 for beating me in being the first person to respond with “killing spree.” I like your style. 
As for myself, I’d tell a few trustworthy friends who wouldn’t have anything special to take care of about the coming end…then get our group together with a LOT of weapons, take over a TV station, and proceed to spend the last 15 hours of existance loudly berating all of the groups/religions/political affiliations/cultures etc. we didn’t like on national TV. Afterlife or not, getting that off my chest would REALLY be good for the soul.
Failing that, try and destroy the local prison somehow. The one that holds California’s death row. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Charles Manson and his ilk have a chance at outliving me.
No, I don’t have an SO, why do you ask?
Ranchoth
If I was a reliative of yours, I would try not to spend my last mouments with a drunk naked family member (but thats just me).
I would immediately go find a very hot young man, and a large quantity of marijuana. I would then troop out to St. Helen’s island, make love under the statue of Man, and then get stoned and watch the sun set over Montreal for the last time.
[sub](The best part, though, would be not having anyone say, EVER HEARD OF AIDS!!!)[/sub]