This morning I learned that it really is the end of the world as we know it.
And, no, I'm not talking about REM.
I stopped in at the Sobey's New Empire Foodworld Emporium, or Safeway, or whatever the heck they will ultimately call it, on my ride in to work because I needed lunch-type supplies and I didn't have time to make the bend all the way down to South Campus to that place that Jimmy built (and one of our readers nominally helps run).
After I had explained, for the fourth time, that I didn't need a plastic bag and was getting ready to plug my card into the machine, the four dead guys came on the sound system.
And it wasn't even the tune you hear in every hockey arena everywhere now days.
Instead it was 'I Wanna Be Sedated'.
Somehow, somewhere, I reckon Mr. Spector really is firing that pop-gun at Mr. Colvin in a gleeful, wigged-out, crazy-trained, end-of-the-centurious celebration.
Or some such thing.
And, just in case my brother is reading this....I know, I know, I know... It was Marky, not Tommy, on the drums for Road to Ruin...