Planet X

I had a 2012 theme-dinner in a Park Avenue apartment last night. The hostess, who was dolled up in couture and diamonds, served us MREs by candlelight. Military Ready-to-Eat rations that have a super high calorie content and taste like shit. It was all very droll. She had this ancient religious expert who explained to us over champagne and powdered fruit cocktails that the end of the Kali Yuga was upon us. She was this gorgeous black girl from Haiti with thin, elegant dreadlocks and teeth so bright it was like talking to a stroboscope. After her spiel I asked her what she did back home and she told me she was a witch doctor. So I pulled my shirt up and asked her to take a look at one of my nipples. Every time I play tennis it chaffs on my Polo shirt. Well don’t wear a Polo shirt. She seemed to know her stuff. There was also an astronomy professor from Cal-tech who specializes in black holes and moonlights for a group who believe in the arrival of the 12th planet. Planet X. His take on the whole thing was just shy of doomsday. But by that time I was really putting the moves on the Haitian. She was a little older than me but I have to say, there’s something about a six foot black witch doctor that you just can’t quite pass up. She was certainly more interested in the professors conjecture than I. He called the planet Nibiru and said that it had a several thousand year orbit thats going to swing it right by Earth on December 21st, 2012. Apparently it will come so close that the magnetic poles will flip creating a shit storm that will wipe out every coast line from New York to Byron Bay. At this point the ladies who lunch were either laughing hysterically or wetting their pants. What do mean mid America? I spent my whole life getting out. Now I have to go back? Most of the men didn’t even seem to notice. They were still talking about the Super Bowl or reading email on their Blackberries. When the professor finally began talking about the post 2012 maps for sale on the Internet three of them had excused themselves because the Ranger game was already in its second quarter. As I was leaving I asked the Haitian what she really thought. I knew she was hiding something. But with so many people around she just kept quiet. When I invited her to dinner she shook her head and said no. You come to me with something and I’ll cook. So I’m going to bring her a live goat and try to get her to decapitate it with me inside a pentagram. I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited. 

Skull

I was invited to a woman’s house last night to hear her talk about 2012 and the end of the world as we know it. She was super hot. Apparently she comes from this long line of mystics who can see spirits and talk to people on the other side. Wherever the hell that is. She was wearing this black mini skirt and stockings and this shiny black jacket that made her look like a witch who shopped at Dolce and Gabbana. She had edge, I will say that. She knew all kinds of things about the body and the soul and what happens after death. She also has this crystal skull thats been in her family for generations that the British Museum has trouble carbon dating. No one can tell how old it is or where it comes from. She only brings it out on special occasions. It has a name and everything. People flock to touch it. I asked her if I could clasp it between my thighs for a moment. You know, for a super-hit. She looked at me like I’d asked her to use the holy grail to give a urine sample. The documentary people thought it was hilarious. They were all there doing this special to follow up the next Indiana Jones movie which is apparently all about it. Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull or something. When she finally brought the thing out the whole room went silent. When I made a ghost noise no one found it funny. One of the producers even gave me this look like I was a complete turd. She was hot too. I will say that the energy in the room went electric. You sort of got the idea that it wasn’t quite inanimate. Like it was eyeballing you and everyone else at the same time. When it was my turn to get close to it the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I wanted to pet it, or wipe its brow like a bald guy with a comb-over, but up close I just couldn’t. Up close it had such presence. You had no choice but to respect it.