What's On Your Bucket List?

Thanks to the benefits of college, I can now officially declare that the world will end on Dec. 21, 2012.

Who knew college courses in which I had no initial interest would actually be beneficial? Yes, I've decided to approve of our college's physical geography program. Someone please pass that news on to the administration—just in case they were thinking of cutting it.

I learned the sun is a moody son of a female dog, and it has an 11-year cycle of happy-go-lucky Earth-warming kindness akin to Lady Di, and then it has an 11-year cycle of raging Charlie Sheen-like pissed-offedness in the form of solar flares. Essentially, our nearest star is a bipolar paparazzo's dream.

And guess what? The sun's next tantrum is going to be—wait for it—in 2012.

So besides not having to worry about paying back any of my student loans, I've also decided to make up a bucket list of things to do before that giant ball of gas rips one so big that Earth's eyes will literally water. I wonder if that's what happened when a certain biblical zoologist built a huge cruise liner?

So before I tell you what I'm going to do with my life before we all explode like so much Tom Cruise crazy all over so much Oprah couch, I'm going to give our celebrity star a review.

They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Well, apparently the same goes for our sun. I'm awarding it a strict dosage of Prozac from now until Dec 21, 2012. The only problem is the sun is billions of years old. It might just refuse the medication all together on grounds that it never had to take pills before, so it's not about to start now.

Wait, that might be the case unless it acts like the majority of our retired population, in which case pills would be like candy.

Scientists: Get on that.

The first item on my bucket list is something I already do on occasion, but now I plan to do it at every possible chance I get. I'm going to laugh at the most inappropriate times in every situation I'm a part of.

Most people who know me have already figured out I'm not the person to come to for advice. I'm snarky and ridiculous, and it's almost guaranteed that my personal advice will end up being more sarcastic than helpful. But in the event someone should come to me with serious advice, I'm just going to laugh in that person's face.

"Matty, I just lost my job," John Jacob Jingle Heimer Schmidt said. "I have four wives and 32 children to feed back in Colorado City, and I also found out I have cancer!"

Cut to me falling on the floor in laughter. Of course I would justify my actions.

"Laughter is the best medicine, you know," Matty said.

But really, anyone who laughs at that situation is just wrong. I would give any other person a review of five out of five wives who continuously nag and drain that person's bank account. Living in Colorado City is not fodder.

Secondly, I'm going to apply for every credit card offer that comes to me in the mail. Once I have many lines of credit, I'm going to use that money and buy all the people I laugh at a fun present: like a car or a good divorce attorney. I'm not doing this to better someone else's life, so don't get me wrong. This will be an attempt to make amends so I don't actually end up in hell.

"Oh, Matty, I thought you hated me," John said. "But now I can drive from Arizona to Utah, and I only have one wife now! Thank you so much!"

Cut to me looking Mr. Schmidt right in the eyes.

"Listen, I'm sorry to hear about your cancer," Matty said. "But when you die and get to heaven, just tell them I helped you out, OK?"

Again, I must interject with another review. Anyone who really would do such a horrible thing gets the rest of his or her life paying back the debt of each sibling, cousin and brother from another mother. You should never ask someone to vouch for you in heaven. Do it your own damn self.

Last, but certainly not least, I want to go skydiving. In comparison to my other two goals to achieve before life as we know it pulls a "Sopranos" season finale, this goal seems pretty tame.

But I think I'd like to get a pair of wings surgically fused to my back so I can go skydiving sans parachute. Perhaps I won't live, but you'd better believe I just might be as famous as I'd always hoped to be for just a little while.

But don't really try that, folks. Anyone who attempts that third item gets free plastic surgery from a dyslexic surgeon. Essentially the end result will be a person with inverted knees and crossed eyes. But on the upside, this person will be able to hear things from behind very well on account of the ears being sewn on backward.

I'm not advising you to not jump from a plane and attempt to fly for your own safety. I'm telling you not to do it because I want to be the only one in history to have tried it.

Do you believe all the hoopla surrounding the end of the world? I would love to hear what's on your bucket list. Like "The Skewed Review" fan page on Facebook at Facebook.com/TheSkewedReview and follow it on Twitter @SkewedReview. Let everyone know if you think the end is nigh, and tell us all what you want to cross off your to-do list before we all cease to exist. Plus you can read some of the actual bucket list items I plan to pull off before we all bite the big one. Come join the conversation!