As my husband-elect, you should probably know that I have a nasty habit of immersing myself in Discovery and National Geographic specials on global decimation/apocalypse-type events. These channels seem to go through phases of terror-heavy programming, and I always get sucked in. SUCKED IN.
Tonight I'm watching National Geographic's "2012: Countdown to Armageddon." I know I've told you this before, but I don't think you've taken me seriously: YOU HAVE TO BE WITH ME ON 12/21/2012. Seriously. If the world doesn't end, bonus! You can point and laugh at me, and I'll take it because I'm too busy being relieved that you, me, and the rest of mankind are still alive.
If you're too embarrassed to tell work that you need time off because your wife is scared of the end of the world, then you can just tell them that I'm having open heart surgery right before Christmas.
Don't laugh at me. Promise you'll be with me!
p/s it's going to be hard to sleep after David Hasselhoff nightmares last night and NatGeo shows tonight...
p/p/s the alternative would be some sort of awful "Incredible Journey" over the Atlantic. This could take you weeks, months, or even YEARS (depending on the state of post-apocalyptic global transportation networks). If you take too long, I might be forced to join a tribe of Iowan lesbians in order to survive. And then you would show up and I'd be full-on lesbo and not even interested in you anymore. Do you really want that to happen? Really? You might think it's a fun idea now, because you like camping and lesbians but, I assure you, my tribe of post-apocalyptic Amazon/Iowans will NOT rub your feet and play with your nipples while making out with each other. Oh no, they will most likely slaughter you and turn you into man-barbeque roasting on a spit. And then I'll have to EAT you! And not in the fun way! Do you really want that to happen? Really?
p/p/p/s they say a good marriage has a solid foundation of compromise. I promise you I'll start compromising in 2013, when I'm certain the world isn't ending. Until that day, you have to agree to be with me in December of 2012.
p/p/p/p/s i was planning to keep typing until you capitulated and swore a sacred oath to be with me on 12/21/2012, but then I realized that if I keep typing ad infinitum, I'll never actually hit send, thus barring you from reading this email and agreeing to its terms. So I should probably stop typing soon.
p/p/p/p/p/s i love you. i hope you can find it in your heart to love me in a world devoid of excess body hair removal cremes and deodorant.