Wow! That is a lot of rain! Looks like the voices in my head were correct. I’m so glad I built this big ass boat. People said I was a paranoid schizophrenic erecting a monument of stupidity in reaction to an irrational fear. Well, who’s paranoid now, huh? I’ll tell you who; it’s all the doomed water-soaked sinners banging on the starboard side of “my monument of stupidity.” Bang all you want! I’m not letting you guys in! There is barely enough room in here for the wombats. And I wish you guys would stop all that screaming. Actually, I kind of don’t. It feels pretty good. I’m safe and dry, reaping the rewards for living my sinless life. Meanwhile, all you party animals who enjoyed shellfish and haircuts are finally getting your watery comeuppance.
I sure am taking a lot of joy in their suffering. That’s fucked up, right? I really should be kind of sad right now. At least God thinks I’m a righteous dude. Wait, God just drowned everyone on the planet. If God turns out to be a murderous psychopath, and he thinks I’m likeable, what does that make me? Oh, I really shouldn’t think about crap like this. I’m just going to get really drunk. Luckily, there is nothing in the bible yet about getting really drunk. Goodnight diary.
Oh man, just woke up with a killer headache. All the banging on the side of the boat is gone. I guess the last of those shrimp-eating heathens have departed this liquid ball of misery and finally entered the gates of hell. Oh, what a merciful God we praise. It’s still raining though. I asked God in my dream why he destroyed humanity, and he said that there was just too much violence in the world so he had to murder everybody. I like that logic. I think later I’m going to ask God to help me fight all these bottles of wine. He’ll probably send me more bottles of wine! Better yet, there is gossip amongst the angels about God’s son. I think his name is Jesus or Enrique or some other foreign sounding name. In any case, I hear the guy loves turning water into wine! Well, we’ve got a shit-ton of water down here, Jose. Just saying!
Man, this place is starting to smell like Methuselah’s taint after bean week. Take two of every non-dinosaur he said. It will be fun he said. Just build one window way at the top he said. Where am I supposed to shovel all this crap? What am I supposed to do about the smell? This is ridiculous. Who knew green pandas shit so much? They are producing two cubits an hour? I really want these things gone. It doesn’t help that they also taste delicious, the pandas, not the cubits of shit.
Note: To anyone reading this diary in the future, just know there once were green pandas and they were probably the best tasting animal on the planet. Sorry, I had to make a judgment call here. Enjoy chickens or whatever they hell you guys will end up eating in the future, haha.
I have four sons: Ham, Sham, Japheth, and Carl. I’m having a little trouble with Ham. No, that’s not his real name. It used to be Dave, but his brother Japheth caught him fornicating into a pig a few years ago, so now we just call him Ham. It’s a pretty good nickname, not as good as Jezebel or Judas, but I digress. I don’t know what God was thinking letting Ham on a boat with all these animals. I mean, I can’t watch him all day. I’m too busy drinking. Anyway, I noticed one of the goats was walking funny. It’s kind of disturbing.
Dear Diary, I’m at my wits end with Ham. I caught him stuck to the business end of a lady goat this morning. I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried reasoning with him. I even tried tough love: Last winter I even caught him blowing a wolf so I made him smoke the whole pack. It obviously didn’t help, but hey, everybody is dead and the world is falling apart so I guess it’s no big deal when you look at the big picture. Also, I haven’t produced a solid turd in quite some time. Maybe it’s time to slow down on all the drinking.
It’s getting pretty miserable here. I wish I would have drowned with the rest of my kind. I can’t believe I cut the skin off the end of my dick for this bullshit. Feeling depressed.
Yes, it is still raining. God, if you can hear me, I’m pretty sure everyone is dead by now. This is overkill unless you’re really trying to wipe out the dinosaurs, which makes sense because the water would have to be pretty high to kill a brontosaurus. They got those long ass necks. I’m just a little confused. How is a giraffe not a dinosaur? Why am I saving them and not the brontosauri…brontosauruses..whatever. I don’t care. Cheers, I’m going knock back another bottle or ten.
Had another chat with God while drunk. Funny how that’s the only time he talks to me. Anyway, he has a pretty cool plan. He’s killing the dinosaurs so he can eventually bury their bones deep in the earth. He wants to test the faith of the these wizards from the future who use magic to locate and dig up bones. If people believe the dinosaurs were older than mankind, God gets to send them to hell on a technicality! Pretty ingenious huh!? Suck it wizards from the future! Oh man, He truly does work in mysterious ways.
Aw shit, I got wasted and just ate the last turducken. God assures me that the turducken will reemerge from extinction in a slightly different form in a few thousand years so it’s not a total loss. But anyway, I feel like kind of a dick. Sorry people from the future.
Had a chat with God last night. He was pretty pissed about Ham fornicating inside that lady goat. I really wasn’t in the mood to hear all that shit because I was pretty wasted. I was like, “Wait, you can kill a million people, but Ham can’t fuck a goat?” Seriously? Also, it was a lady goat, and I’m pretty sure she liked it! That’s hetero and consent right there! That’s like two out of the three sex things you look for, right? That ain’t so bad. And you made him that way. Don’t blame me for his behavior. I have just as much say so as you do in his goat fucking. Blame yourself if you’re going to blame anyone!
Then, God sent a big ass wave my way, almost toppling us, but I was gone off that good shit so I was like, oh yeah, you gonna drown us, after all the shit we been through together!? I double dog dare you! The only reason you let us live was because you didn’t want to wipe out every living thing. If you did, you’d have to put your creating gloves back on and head back into your little lab and put in some fucking work, and we both know you’re too fucking lazy for that.
You won’t even come down and show us the right way to cook pork. So, stop fucking with MY boat unless you want to spend the next week gluing eyes on worms and shit or whatever it is you do. And we both know you’ll have to do it. You can’t stand to sit around in outer space by yourself with nothing to worship you and no toys to play with. But at the same time, you’re too lazy to start all over. I got you by the nuts, bro. Every species you care about rests in my hands right now, so I suggest you step the fuck off.
Then, just to prove my point, I went pick up a wombat (God loves wombats) and I was all like, I got the last male wombat here, and if you piss me off again, I’m going to drop kick this little motherfucker right out that one window you had me build! Then, the wombat population will die off slowly as the last fruitless female of her kind shuffles off her mortal coils in ripe old wombat age while you watch in horror from heaven. Shit, maybe I’ll give her to Ham and see if he can repopulate the wombat race if you know what I mean. And then I did some pretty violent pelvic thrusts.
That’s when God spoke out loud, not like inside my head as he usually does. It was the first and last time I would ever hear his voice bellow loudly from the heavens. The hair on the back of my back stood up (humanity was very hairy back then). He said:
And I felt that that was the best apology I’d get from that asshole, so I drank another bottle and fell asleep.
Man, it finally stopped raining. I guess that talk me and God had the other night was really productive. For the record, I would never have drop-kicked that wombat out the window. It was a total bluff. They are adorable little creatures, and I have nothing against them. I guess God really can’t read minds. He has no idea what I’m thinking. This means I’m free to think whatever I want. This is exciting! How will I use this new found freedom? I know, I’m going to think about tits for like three hours straight and not my wife’s tits either. Big. Giant. Strange. Tits.
I’ve been getting drunk and thinking about tits for the last few days while I watch the water subside. Today I decided I should sober up and use my mind-freedom to think about other things, more productive things. I mean, I’m going to be here a while. I started wondering: Is there really a God? Did he create us, or did we create him? Does it even matter? What if I’m just a crazy person who hears voices, a really idiotic doomsday prepper who just got insanely lucky?
Lance, who owns the sandal repair shop, thought there would be a fire-pocalypse, so he built his house out of dozens of giant barrels of water. I wonder if he saw the humor in that as he was drowning? Probably not. I bet Crazy Ralph from down the street was pretty surprised. He was a sword nut. I can just picture him trying to slice those waves in half as they descended on his well-fortified home. News flash Ralph, you only have two hands. Why the hell do you have fifty different swords? Did you use your water-fighting sword to keep you from drowning? Doubt it. Maybe I was just the world’s luckiest boat enthusiast.
Megalodon, the giant dinosaur shark, has been stalking us for the last two days. He just swims laps around us as we drift listlessly across the horizon like some buzzard of the sea. There is a strange level of familiarity that has grown between the crew and this mega beast. We started calling him Don. We harpooned a couple of barrels into him, just to keep track of where he is. Sometimes I wonder if he simply wants companionship, to align himself with something greater than himself, to be part of our voyage into the new world. Frankly, I’m not sure if he’s here to eat us or he’s just lonely.
Update: Megalodon is DEFINITLY just here to eat us. I’ll explain more. I have some repairs to make. Pretty busy day.
Finally got the port side patched up. Don busted his fat face into the Neanderthal chamber and ate all of them. Damn you Megalodon for depriving the world of these stout, idiotic creatures! Well, at least everybody in the future is going to have a normal shaped forehead now. Somewhere ten cubits deep, a shark’s stomach acid is slowly destroying the last group of unattractive genes on earth. I don’t know how I feel about that. On the bright side, when all this is over and life goes back to normal, the caves won’t smell like piss anymore.
Megalodon is back. I guess he’s finally digested our sloped-headed cousins and craves more flesh. Something has to be done. I’ve put together a shark hunting team consisting of myself, (the local authority) my son Sham, (the brain) and my other son Carl (the grizzled maritime warrior). I called a meeting in the galley last night. I thought we should get to know each other better.
We are all hundreds of years old and have many life experiences, so I thought maybe we could form a plan to extinguish this looming beast in our midst. We were all in good spirits, joking about the different scrapes, lumps, and bruises that life had given us along the way. That’s when I asked Carl about a scar on his bicep.
He replied, “Oh, that’s a tattoo. I got that removed.”
“Don’t tell me…don’t tell me” chirped Sham, “barbed wire!”
“That’s the S.S. Atlantis.” he said stoically.
The galley grew quiet.
“You were on the Atlantis? What happened?” I asked.
As you know, a giant volcano erupted…killed most of the inhabitants of Atlantis almost instantly. I’m told they could hear the thunderous crack all the way in Sodom, even over the grunting, continuous buttsex that was going on.
Anyway, what was left of us piled into the only vessel that remained undamaged (the S.S. Atlantis) and made our way out to sea. We watched as the entire island collapsed upon into a mountain of ash and dissolved into the ocean. We didn’t see Megalodon until about a half hour later. Back then, he was only a fifty-footer. You know how you can tell that, chief? From just looking at him and making a general guess. What we didn’t know was that Atlantis was so secret, nobody knew where exactly to come looking for us. I mean, you’d think to just follow the colossal tower of smoke but whatever. Very first light, Megalodon come cruising. He tore the boat out from under us in twenty minutes. We formed ourselves into tight groups.
The idea was, when Megalodon comes, we start pounding and screaming. Sometimes the shark go away…sometimes he wouldn’t go away. Sometimes he looks right into you, right into your eyes…you know the thing about Megalodon, he’s got stupid princess eyes, vapid eyes, like that of a pampered woman. When he comes at you, he doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing…until he bites you, and those stupid eyes roll over and look even stupider. Then you hear that terrible, high-pitch screaming and the ocean runs red with blood. By the end of that first dawn, Megalodon had eaten a hundred men.
By Thursday morning, I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Ur, tent pitcher. I thought he was asleep. He bobbed up and down in the water, like a kind of dreidel. Well, he’d been bitten in half below the waist. He’d never pitch another tent again. Five days later, a merchant ship came along and picked us up. That was the time I was most frightened, waiting my turn. I’ll never wait in a line again. So eleven hundred men went into the water. Three hundred came out. Megalodon took the rest, June 29th 5634BC. Anyway, I’m alive so no hard feelings.
Well, a few more species are now extinct, and by species, I mean Carl, but I can happily say that we finally got Megalodon! Yesterday, Don busted through the side of the ark again, tipping the entire boat on its side. Me and my sons all joined hands and held on to each other, forming a human chain. Carl was sliding down. “Quick, give me your hand!” I shouted. “Looks like a line to me!” Carl retorted in defiance just before disappearing into Don’s mouth. Luckily, a crate of poison-dart rabbits (the deadliest rabbits to ever hop the earth) also tumbled in. Two hours later, Megalodon was belly-up getting his stupid eyes pecked out by hungry birds. Kind of anti-climatic but that’s life. I’ll be busy all week patching the boat back up, again. Really sucks about Carl.
Started drinking again. Don’t judge me. There is nothing else to do! Plus, you tend to find drink in old age, and I am extremely old! So naturally, the voices came back. They said the water is going down, but didn’t specify to where exactly? Where is it draining? How can any of this be possible? Just think about it; there is so much water that it is covering the entire planet, so where is it draining to? Isn’t everywhere already full…of water. Does this make sense to anybody? Am I the only one who finds this ridiculous?
Finally, the water has subsided, but God said we still cannot go outside for another month. We have to wait for everything to dry out. I mean, what’s another thirty days after you’ve been stuck in here for a year sniffing animal shit in the same room where you watched a hundred-foot shark eat your eldest son. Yeah, totally. I’ll wait another month, God. Why not make it two? Hell, how about you flood the earth one more time, and we do it all over again. Maybe you missed a dinosaur. Better break out the rain clouds just to be safe! Seriously I am so done with this shit.
I finally opened the door, the real one, not the one Megalodon made, and boy does it suck out here on earth. Everything is dead and gone, gray and flat. The animals took off immediately away from the boat, traumatized forever. God was pretty sorry about the entire thing. To cheer me up, he invented the rainbow, which shot a multicolored beam of energy into the ocean and brought Carl back to life. He then emerged from the sea, in perfect form, smiling and happy to be reunited in the arms of his weeping family. Oh wait, that didn’t happen. The rainbow just sat there in the sky for a half hour. I guess it was pretty neat. Whatever.
God then promised me that he would never flood this place again. I looked around at this barren wasteland and asked “Where am I?” He replied that I was in a place that will someday be called New Orleans. So people of the future, just move there if you never want to worry about flooding again.