Get your own macaroni and cheese. You were laughing about Armageddon and now look at us, like sitting ducks, all of us. They don’t tell you on the primetime sitcoms, they don’t have a podcast telling you about all the politicians already moving into the underground shelters. Because the ship is already sunk. You ever stop and think about how the government controls the stock market? Just once in your life, in between lattes and the sports highlights, you ever considered why they came into my house to confiscate all the gasoline I’ve been storing in Evian bottles in my garage? Suddenly it’s illegal to know too much, and when y’all finally realize it will be too late. It’s already too late. I hear you out there watching me through my own windows. Now you’ve got me leaping out of bed in the middle of the night. Haven’t slept for days. You won’t even give me time to get dressed, let alone have a shower. Get your own canned goods, don’t come knocking around here and that’s the last warning you’re gonna get. You’ve got me hunting myself in my own house. You’ve got me following myself around corners, chasing the sound of my fat self making the floorboards creak in the pitch black. I may be crazy just because I think I’m Jesus Christ, but I’m pretty sure Jesus thought he was Jesus too. And you know what that means. [Pete Bradt]