Drunkadamus
Everyone’s got a doomsday theory these days. You’re probably familiar with the usual end times entourage: Solar flares, the Mayans and their long count calendar (seriously I haven't seen a scheduling system that bad since Lotus Notes), and of course, good old Nostradamus who’s been predicting hell fire and doom for the past 500 years. So it’s only fair that I get to throw my hat in the ring with a few last-call prophecies of my own. As a sage soothsayer who blends starling foresight with fine Kentucky bourbon, it’s the myth, the legend, the functioning alcoholic: Drunkadamus. Gather round sports fans and let’s start this lampoon, Don’t crowd Drunkadamus (I’ve been blotto since noon) I've never liked being the bearer of bad news, But mankind’s last days come with a number of clues. No more ass and cart in these modern new ages, Metal chariots will be built with levers and gauges. With road rage and accidents off the proverbial charts. It's clear that the asses are now drivin...