I am afraid that Global Warming is going to end the world but not before I die due to any of the various winter “storms of the century”. Or, Al Gore continues to speak and the greenhouse gasses he spews kills us all.
I fear that my lack of faith will lead to an eternal death but I am equally afraid of picking the wrong team. (Arriving in Heaven – “Excuse me, is Jesus here?” Large black man – “Sorry dude, you picked the wrong team. Asa lama lakum”)… Well, fu**.
I fear that I will have an enlarged bladder, enlarged prostate, and enlarged thingy. When I cut loose, it will be like a fire hydrant exploding and I will injure innocent bystanders.
I am afraid that I will be attacked by Al Qaeda but am equally afraid that I will be attacked by Randy Quaid trying to steal my lunch money. Where is the US military when you really need them?
I worry about not having health care but also worry about having crappy health care. “Oh! We were supposed to remove your gall bladder. Well sir, shit happens”.
I worry that the music industry will file a law suit against me for downloading music illegally but I am equally worried that the quality of the music will leave me deaf within 6 months.
I fear that Sarah Palin is not nearly as brilliant as she appears to be. I also fear that she is having a secret affair with Al Sharpton. (Explains the retarded baby).
I worry that Steven Spielberg will suffer from dementia and make a sequel to Jaws called Jews where short white men will swim aimlessly in the ocean looking for lost change.
I worry that the Tea Party people will recruit folks from Kentucky and they will go around trying to tea bag everyone. Worse yet, they will rub lemons on their junk which will make everyone pucker up and give the appearance of smooching their man purses.
I fear that the Mayans got it wrong and the world will really end in 2013. Vito is going to want his exceedingly large loan back and Salma Hayek, whose boobs I grabbed as the clock struck twelve, is going to punch my lights out. Oh, and the “wouldn’t it be funny if I painted my junk red, white and blue and run on the football field” will seem slightly less funny. Fu**ing Mayans…would it kill you to buy a watch?
Finally, I worry that the medication I am on will wear off soon and I regret writing all of the things mentioned above. I also fear that the meds I stole from the lady down the hall might give me a vagina. Is that possible?