WOODY: Tomorrow came without my toothbrush

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Those darn Mayans – now I’m in a pickle.

When my alarm clock went off the other morning, I knew I was in trouble. The world hadn’t come to an end overnight, as the Mayans predicted.

Well, that’s just great.

Thanks a lot, featherheads.

Relying on the Mayans’ doomsday prophecy, I figured there was no use to send in my credit card payment. Now, I’m stuck with a late fee wishing I knew where the Mayans lived because I would send them bill.

I called up my boss and – figuring I wouldn’t have to report to work the next morning – told him exactly what I thought about him.

He said I was risking my job, referring to him and his ancestors that way.

I borrowed a line from an old Johnny Paycheck song to explain what, exactly, he could do with his lousy job. The Mayans said I didn’t need to worry about unemployment.

The list of premature scratch-offs – my Oops List – goes on.

I told my wife to buy that expensive mink coat she’s always wanted.

I didn’t bother to worm the dog.

Why water the plants?

I didn’t change the goldfish’s water, assuming they’d be in a better place by now.

I did change my underwear, Mayans or no Mayans.

I told my nosey neighbor to mind his own business.

I also told him that someday foraging Eskimos are going to sneak up and harpoon his wife, Midge, while she sun bathes on the beach.

I haven’t played tennis in years, but I still got my old racket out of the closet and smashed it to bits. It felt good.

I broke every golf club I own over my knee.

I called Las Vegas and placed a sizable bet on the Chicago Cubs to win it all next season.

I ate an entire rack of barbecued ribs with a chocolate cake for desert, even though my doctor has me on a strict diet. What are a few extra pounds in the after-life?

I tipped the waitress $100.

I didn’t tape “Hawaii Five-0.”

I phoned in a huge pledge to a TV preacher.

I subscribed to “Lawrence Welk’s Greatest Hits” CD collection.

I canceled my newspaper subscription, car insurance and cable service; no particular reason to tie up loose ends, I’ve just always wanted to do it.

I didn’t brush after what I assumed was my last meal.

I deliberately raced through a speed trap, got caught, and dared the cop to write me a ticket.

When he did, I laughed and said, “See you in court, Barney.”

I told my car dealer to scrap my extended lifetime warranty, assuming my lifetime wouldn’t be extended.

I called my rich aunt Bessie, told her that her Christmas fruitcake would make a goat barf, and if she doesn’t like it she can cut me out of her will.

Those are just a few of the things on which I jumped the gun, taking the Mayans’ word for it that there would be no tomorrow. But tomorrow came, darn it.

I just wish I had kept my toothbrush.

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Mayan Prophecy, Voices
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