The fruits of the deee-vil...

I only remembered that today was 06/06/06 when my hairdresser, Josh Stonewater, hoped aloud that he wouldn't randomly give birth to Damien today as punishment for his gayness. (Suri Cruise was already born, no need for him to worry there. Plus, he doesn't have a vagina). People are freaking the funk out, but I'm still here bloggin'. So, the world hasn't ended yet. Unless making people read my blog is a form of severe punishment from Lucifer himself.

I first learned that 6-6-6 was some form of evil when I was seven or eight. My dad, a then math teacher at Christopher High School, and the rest of our family suffered torture every Halloween season in the form of toilet paper, soap, and eggs from mischievous high school kids. One year, someone got the bright idea to scare the collective pants off the Quank household by soaping 6-6-6 all over our living room windows.

Today, two phenomenons are simultaneously occuring: people are either painstakingly working to avoid the stigma of this date, or they are working their asses off to capitalize on its supposedly freaky nature. Women are begging their doctors to somehow keep from delivering their babies today, so as not to forever punish a child with an unfortunate date of birth. Heads of corporations are releasing movies (the remake of The Omen) and books (The Rapture, Godless: The Church of Liberalism) as dilligently planned tie-ins with the centurial mark of the beast.

I advise everyone to lighten up. As INXS tells us: "every single one of us has the devil inside." Go read Goethe's Faust, listen to The Stones' "Sympathy for the Devil," eat some deviled eggs, and clean your room with your Dirt Devil vacuum. And pray to God.