Wednesday, October 12, 2005

I'm going to die.

For those regular readers (all two of you) I want you to know that it has been a pleasure entertaining you. However, it turns that I will be dying on Saturday, March 30, 2041. I know this may come as a shock to many of you, but so it goes. One does not argue with the Death Clock.

Apparently, I could extend my time here until Thursday, April 29, 2060 if I became an optimist.

Screw that.

I only wonder if I'll finally get to meet the Flying Spaghetti Monster, face-to-noodly-face. Guess I'll have to ask my Magic 8 Ball.

2 comments:

Harold said...

My date of death is May 2, 2036. The worst of it is that if I lost 30 pounds, that would only buy me a year and a day extra.

Hum -- isn't "a year and a day" the minimum someone can be sentenced to prison in Oregon, or did the sentencing guidelines change that? Is this a sign from the cosmos that I will eventually be convicted on some weight loss fraud scheme?

Harold said...

BTW, I went to the Magic 8-Ball site and asked, "will I live past 80 years of age?"

The 8-Ball's response: "Better not tell you now." I like Magic 8-Balls with a sense of humor.