The last word

The old man rises slowly from the ground, ash turning his skin a dull grey colour. He stares at the massive wall of water that is barreling towards him and says "I'm coming home Dorothy" moments before he is killed by having a giant airplane carrier smash him into human paste... BULLSHIT.
In fact, I found myself saying bullshit a lot yesterday when I made the mistake of wasting a full 108 minutes watching the movie 2012 on DVD. I could have spent my time doing a myriad of other things; some that spring to mind now include having sex, studying, studying while having sex, having sex twice (let's face it, one session would RARELY last the full 108 mins unless there was some kind of game of scrabble or trivial pursuit in the middle of it), cleaning, getting laser surgery to the cervix or stapling my nipples to my forehead. Any of those activities would have been preferable to sitting through the farce that was the end of the world in the year 2012 hollywood style. It was so bad I almost wished I would turn around and see a tsunami gathering on Sydney Road, just so I had a reason to run from the room.
In all seriousness though, don't see it. In all other seriousness, really don't see it.
I will admit, though, it got me thinking. My thinking certainly didn't cure cancer, but I did have a chance to ponder a couple of important and big life questions - What would I say if I was about to be flattened by an aircraft carrier on a tsunami? and Who would I want to be with/speak to at the end? In 2012, the last gift that the President of the United States gives his people is in announcing the end of the world early so that the non-government plebs have the chance to say goodbye to the people they love. So who would I call? It's a big question. I mean, there are some people who I love desperately who are just rubbish on the phone - sure as shit I do NOT want to spend my last ever phone convo saying "Sorry? no, I can't hear you. huh, what? No, just take me off fucking speaker phone, would you? Yep, no, I can hear you now... anyway, did you hear that the world is ending? Huh? No, ending. The world. Yep." Doom. Then there are other beloveds who I know I'd want to speak to but never answer their phones so all I'd end up saying is "Hi... It's Dani here. Just calling to say bye before we all melt into puddles as a result of the liquid hot magma. Anyway, give me a call if you get this. Talk soon!" Oh hells no. All that really leaves me with is my Mum or Dad and I just know how that convo would start "Mum it's me. Yep, sure, put Dad on.... (hold...) Hi Dad. (hold) Nope, I haven't had a chance to see the new Matt Damon movie yet... (hold) What did David and Margaret give it? (hold) yep... right, Dad, can you put Mum back on? On the toilet? No, it's cool. I'll wait. So... what else is going on?"
My only option then is to just forgo the potentially time wasting phone calls and send out a bulk text to all who I love. Something like "Abt to die :-( but want 2 say luv u. C u in heaven... i hope! LOL :-b" If you get one of these, don't think I don't care - I'm just busy trying to make it to the safety ships so I can do my duty and continue our species after the whole apocalypse trend has died out.
If I could actually physically be with someone it would have to be Jason Bourne or Bruce Willis or the Bush Tucker man; basically someone with acute survival skills. An honourable mention in this category would also go to my boyfriend, Caatherine, Jeff the host from Survivor, Viggo Mortenson or Robinson Crusoe. Certainly a weedy John fucking Cusak would not be on my list. It's absurd to think he could survive the apocalypse, let alone that he could survive it while driving a stretch limo. I feel stupider even writing that sentence.
Oh, and to anwer the first question - what would I say as I gaze up at the wall of water? I consider myself to be a student of the English language, so I reckon the most eloquent thing I'd think of saying would be "FAAAAAAAAARK!". The perfect final line.