It's the End of the World as We Know It

If you watch the evening news, you may have noticed something lately…

THE WORLD IS ENDING.

But I’m not talking about prophetic visions of F10 tornadoes, mountain-moving earthquakes, the Great Yellowstone Explosion (monitor that imminent disaster here), or hail the size of a beach ball crushing every WalMart from here to the moon. I’m talking about the life-altering, soul-crushing, inexplicable launch of the

CORN/BACON/BALLOON APOCALYPSE.

I first tapped into this horrible truth on my own evening news, only to have it reaffirmed the next half hour by World News with Diane Sawyer. Obviously, there is cause for concern here, people. Diane Sawyer knows stuff.

Perhaps you’ve heard about the shortages. The unfortunate lack of rain in our grand ole US of A this summer has left us with an unfortunate lack of some of our staple foods – namely, corn and corn. Let me tell you all a little something about corn.

EVERYTHING EATS IT.

For a greater understanding of why our lack of corn is affecting bacon and balloons, observe:

Lack of RAIN = Lack of CORN = Lack of PIG FOOD = Lack of PIGS = Lack of BACON = NO BALLOONS AT YOUR KID’S FIRST BIRTHDAY PARTY

Ok, maybe I’m not a scientist, but I think I’m on to something.

This is what the folks over at TIME Magazine have to say about our current helium situation:

“The U.S. helium reserve in Amarillo, Tex., controlled by the Bureau of Land Management, accounts for 30 percent of the world’s helium. But a current Senate Bill calls for the reserve to continue selling helium, even if it risks running out by 2018. Helium is a common inert gas, but for commercial purposes it’s usually generated as a byproduct from natural gas mining. But because the recession has caused a slowdown in natural-gas production, helium markets are facing a shortage; more plants will coming online by the end of 2012 in Qatar, Russia and Wyoming, but not in time to ease the current crisis.”

Got that? No?

Here’s my interpretation:

Basically, since we elect our government in this here land of the free, we have thereby given them permission to ruin any and all birthday parties from this day until forever. Thank you, democracy. I will now do my part by sacrificing the chance to hear my husband talk like Alvin the Chipmunk on his birthday in order to leave more helium for MRI machines to diagnose my ailments.

And now you see it – the Corn/Bacon/Balloon Apocalypse has begun. We were warned, guys, we were warned.