Human Extinction: ETA*?

It was one of those nights where you bum a ride home from a friend, swearing to immediately run up to bed upon reaching your apartment. Yet in finding yourself in such pleasant company and good conversation, you end up chatting in the car for 45 minutes with the engine on, parked, headlights blazing, not knowing, not knowing.

The conversation steered toward the question of mortality, as it always does when one was in such states of mind. The redhead complained of crappy keepsake gifts that had no use, as a prelude to the conversation.

"Wanna know what the crappiest gift in the world is?"

The blond and the brunette sat in silence.

"A stuffed animal. Can we talk about stuffed animals?" croaked the redhead.

"What about them?" asked the blond.

"Only that they aesthetically play into your emotions while simultaneously burdening you. It's kind of like getting a slobbering puppy. Sure the stuffed animal creates a warm and fuzzy feeling for the first 5 minutes because it's cute, but you also feel obligated to keep the thing. What do you do with it, put it on your bed? Gross. So then are you supposed to lock it in a closet or throw it away? But then you feel guilty. It's just a piece of crap in the end, taking up space."

"That's true" said the brunette. "They're useless in the end."

"I used to dread getting them as graduation and birthday gifts. They're so tacky. Not to mention their production is total waste of economical/ecological resources. Waste and want. That's all we do. Stuffed animals are so contemporary America" the redhead complained.

"Balls" the blond said plainly.

"Why are we so wasteful?" the redhead asked.

"Because we can be" said the brunette with a snicker.

"Fuck you" the blond snapped.

"Ok" replied the brunette.

"Fuck you" repeated the blond.

"How many more years you think we've got guys?" pondered the redhead.

"God I'm sure we'll have thousands of years to come," the blond assured, exasperated.

"No way, we've got a hundred tops," said the redhead skeptically.

"You think so?" the blond doubtfully replied.

"Sure I do."

"What do you think?" the blond asks, turning to the brunette.

"2012. The Mayans calendar knows all" the brunette said with full conviction, as the blond and redhead openly begin to laugh.

"So true.  Those Mayans were crafty devils. They built temples by standing on each others shoulders, with their wits and brawn" the redhead mused.

"That's what I'm saying" cooed the brunette. "We've got a year left. We should go drinking for six days straight before it hits. One final hurrah. Just sayin'..."

"Bar hopping" quipped the blond.

"I believe 'pub crawl' is the preferred nomenclature" retorted the redhead. "Are you seriously suggesting an apocalyptic pub crawl in light of the end of humanity?"

"Sure" said the brunette. "You should start a Facebook page. I would like it."

"Get out. And what do you suppose we call it, the 2012 Mayan Death Pub Crawl?" joked the redhead.

"Funny" said the blond.

"Honestly, what can we do to be more proactive about this problem?" moaned the redhead.

"Go make a Facebook page. That's what you can do to help. It's easy. It takes 20 minutes" replied the brunette shortly.

"Ok fine. I guess it's a cool idea. But if I do go through with sitting down and making this shit, are you really going to like it?" pleaded the redhead.

"Yeah I am" stated the brunette.

The brunette turned to the blond. "You'll like it too, won't you?"

"I guess" said the blond.

"But we aren't even Facebook friends" the redhead reminded the blond.

"We're not?" asked the blond, knowing they weren't.

"I'll suggest this one to 'like' it after I 'like' it" promised the brunette, nodding at the blond. "Now go forth and create that page. I'll be up for another hour or so, I expect to see results tonight."

"Don't get too excited. It likely won't happen tonight" the redhead muttered while opening the car door. "Night all."

With that the redhead shut the car door and headed upstairs to look for pictures suitable enough to represent a movement of people who stood for one thing: the hedonistic final throws of a generation who likely brought down their existence because they fashioned themselves into wasteful proponents of a hedonistic lifestyle. The spiral ensues.

So far, this is what the redhead came up with:

*- And Facebook continues to ruin lives.