Mine will turn 70.
Og willing, Mr. 'addi and I will be celebrating our 38th wedding anniversary.
Same thing we do every Winter Solstice, Pinky. I’ll be freezing my ass off around a bonfire waiting for dawn and thinking maybe, just maybe, the sun will still rise if we don’t wait around for it. Then I’ll decide it’s better not to take the chance and pass around another bottle of ciderjack.
A terrorist attack in the US being overshadowed in the news by an earthquake in South America?! I like your sense of humor.
Last I checked, Quetta is in Pakistan, not the US. Quetta - Wikipedia
Gaahhhh!!! :eek: :eek: I won’t be watching it that’s for sure-I’ve got a terrible fear of deep water, so much so that I get a high-pitched sound of rushing water in my ears whenever I see something like that. :eek:
I’m rooting for you.
My dad will be a few days past 60, and my mom will be almost 61.
It will be the shortest day of 2012.
The next cycle starts. These things are just arbitrary constructions, like the Julian epoch.
The sun will rise.
And, I, for one, will welcome our new solar overlords.
But they predicted the downfall of their own civilisation.
I bet you feel pretty silly now, huh?
Some people using Mayan software may experience errors in date difference calculations, and the like.
Could this be a self fulfilling prophecy?
I mean, rushes on the stores, people camping out in the wilderness to escape whatever madness might happen… Possible use of the date as a terrorist attack or something?
I will say everything is in accordance with the prophecy
eg
“We’re out of cheese.”
“In accordance with the prophecy”
“The sun is rising”
“In accordance with the prophecy”
“That is damn annoying”
“In accordance with the prophecy”
The sun will temporarily go out. Then turn itself back on 37 minutes and 11 seconds later in a lovely shade of turquiose.
While it’s out, marmosets will rain from clear black skies. The major story of 2013 will be the Plague of Marmosets.
Cheese will ooze from the ground in central Quebec. Perhaps a nice Bree, but possibly “processed cheese product”.
The poles will shift…three inches to the left.
Every bottle of Champagne on the planet will go flat, simultaneously.
Every rat, mouse and cockroach in Detroit will rise as one to slay the Humans. Most of us won’t notice anything different about the city.
The French will suddenly start speaking perfect English, and insist that they’ve actually been speaking it all along. In less than 24 hours, every sign, every storefront, every book in French in the entire country will be replaced with an exact replica in English. But with inexplicable minor errors.
The Aliens will finally arrive, positioning themselves above every major city in the world. However, all they’ll do is steal every guitar string on Earth and then leave, without ever having made contact.
Oh great. Get the Julians involved. Remember what happened the last time they had their hands on things?
Both of these. At the same time.
The aliens will show up, point and laugh at us all, and then leave again.
My Dad will turn 59, and in unrelated news I’ll be stressing that I haven’t finished my Christmas shopping yet and vowing to do it earlier next year.