APOCALYPSE INSURANCE: or, How to avoid God’s wrath in 12 small monthly payments

APCLIPSIA - Apocalypse Insurance 2


At APCLYPSIA (ap-clip-sia) we understand how important life security is to you and your family. Life presents challenges to your health and well-being that are daunting and ever-present. We want you and your loved ones to be protected from pain and suffering for a lifetime and we know that’s what you want too. So, for that reason we are now offering, for a limited time, APCLYPSIA Life Plus+.

APCLYPSIA Life Plus+ equals protection from the most dreaded event in world history…the Apocalypse. You and your family can now live comfortably through the “End of Days” because you were wise enough to invest a pittance for a lifetime of carefree fortune. You might be asking yourself, “Why would they do this for me”? And the answer is, because WE CARE!

APCLYPSIA Life Plus+ provides full coverage for injury or death from the following events*:

DEATH FROM ABOVE: Asteroids, Gamma Ray Bursts from WR-104, Grand Pianos, Confetti

*Coverage is void if you go outdoors during daylight.

NATURAL DISASTERS: Global occurrence of Earthquakes, Tsunamis, Entertainment Award Shows

*Coverage is void if you ever visit or live in California…or any other location within 500 miles of a tectonic plate, salt water or Botox.

PLAGUE: Pandemic Virus, Gingivitis

*Coverage is void if you come in contact with birds or sick people.

SUPER VOLCANO: Nuclear Winter, Harvest Moon Hayride Dances

*Coverage is void if you visit Yellowstone National Park- USA, Santorini-Greece or any other known or unknown global caldera or tourist attraction.

APCLIPSIA - Apocalypse Insurance-1

RED TIDE: Global Infection by Toxic Single Cell Organisms and/or Donald Trump

*Coverage is void if you eat oysters, clams or mussels or live within 500 miles of a casino or community swimming pool.

GLOBAL CLIMATE CHANGE: Tornados, Droughts, Hurricanes, Broken Thermostat

*Coverage is void if you fail to wear SPF 100+, a wide-brim hat, wet suit and full scuba gear at all times.

ARMAGGEDON:  War of God vs. Satan, Political Advertisements, Howie Mandel

*Coverage is void if you are God or Satan or if you associate with organized crusades, rogue individuals or Walmart shoppers.

CALL your local agent now for a free quote at: 555-666-6666

APCLYPSIA Life Plus+ cares about you, contact us today…or before you’re dead!

*This policy does not cover “Acts of God” or injury or death by Zombies or Vampires under any condition. (Coverage is also void if you have seen any of the “Twilight” series).



I was a Teenage Terrorist or: How I Survived Tijuana Jail – Part III of III.

To read Part I and Part II of this blog serial – highly recommended – click here (Part I) (Part II).

This is a True Story. ..Continued.

Part III of III (3 of 3)


Proceed with Caution

Where was I, oh yea, driving to my personal Tijuana, Mexico Jackass Festival (aka “Burro Bash”). We parked the killer Coolio-G mobile on the U.S. side of the border (the safe side), walked over the bridge to Mexico (the ridiculously dangerous side) and strolled right through customs, con no problema! (that’s Spanish for “chingoa tu pendejo!”).

Agave muy bueno!

Do not try this at home

We agreed that we should prioritize our activities in order to make best use of our time in this wonderfully, exotic, foreign land. I mean we weren’t hillbillies; we had both traveled before and still possessed most of our teeth. Therefore, we were well aware of the standard tourist checklist. First on the agenda was to get blind donkey drunk. Check. Second on the list, buy alcohol (Mezcal, of course). Check. Third, drink Mezcal. Check. Fourth, buy some dynamite. Check. Fifth, drink more Mezcal and swallow the worm. I don’t remember, let’s just say Check. Sixth, get arrested…NO wait, I left something out. Rewind. Sixth, attend the Jai Alai matches and gamble. Check. Now, get arrested. Here’s the deal, getting arrested was not on the agenda so it had no business going sixth.

Look at me!!!

And that’s my story. Oh…what is that…you want to know why we got arrested? Well, isn’t it obvious? OK, goddamnit you people are demanding! So for the audience members riding in the short bus, I will continue the tale.

as captured on YouTube

Coolio-G and I sat down in our “seats”, which were nothing but tiered concrete, in the Jai Alai stadium, which was the size of a high school gymnasium and was also 100% concrete. Just like a swimming pool but without lifeguards…or water. We had made our bets and my player was winning and then one of us (not saying who) decided to fire up a match (he needed to light something) and then casually toss it aside…through the air…still lit…into the shopping bag…containing the Mezcal…and the dynamite. Next thing I knew, there were several explosions – KaBOOM – and ensuing hysteria, but I had already jumped the turnstile and was headed out the front door. I escaped! But where was Coolio-G? Why wasn’t he running for his life somewhere close behind me? Maybe he pulled a hammy? And then he appeared at the stadium front door complete with two uniformed escorts armed with machine guns. S-H-I-T! Slow fucking asshole!

Tijuana Tobacco Lobbyist

So I turned myself in and they threw us in a squad car and drove around the city for hours whistling at hookers. Finally, we were introduced to the Chief of Police (mayor, dictator, tobacco lobbyist, whatever – he was powerful) and he questioned us while his goons searched our bodies. I’d never been searched before and all I can say is the next time I want a female. It’s mostly a blur, but after significant interrogation, water-boarding etc. we were thrown back in the squad car and then tossed into jail.

Say “Queso”!

“HOLY SHIT, I’m a TERRORIST!” I was thinking to myself, “Do they even give SCUM like me a trial in this god forsaken place?” I went to look out the window to see if they were building a gallows or sharpening a gigantic hatchet across the street…but there was no window. What there was plenty of in the cell though was shit-faced locals. Twenty-three of them to be exact. Keep in mind that this cell was about the size of a small walk-in closet but with more of an apocalyptic gas station bathroom (men’s, not women’s) flair about it. And not just because the cell contained an actual radioactive commode (which in the immortal words of Dave Barry, “would be a great name for a rock band”) . Anyway, my point is that as wonderful as all that sounds, it was definitely an undesirable situation because no one in the cell (I forget their names) could actually relieve themselves (properly) because two gentlemen were busy fighting over which one had firsties on using the toilet seat…as a pillow.


Did I mention that the entire time I was in the cell (4 hours?) Coolio-G was making his one allowed phone call. How could it possibly take four hours to dial a goddamn telephone? I started to get concerned that maybe they were brutally torturing him (again) and that I didn’t have keys to the car…so I started working on my story. “No hobo spanoli”; “What? Donda esta la bananno cocina”; “Huh? Quanto roja bibliotheca enchilada”. I was ready!!! But he finally returned unscathed and so I swear to this day that blond bastard spent the extra 3 hours 55 minutes of that time back at Carlos O’Briens. Anyway, we were released after one of his relatives in Cali paid our bribe…umm…bail and I hastily said “Adios milos mimagos” to my new friends, the twenty-one Julios, Chico and the Man (they were a couple). Half of them were passed out so they totally missed it.

I don’t remember much after that, except that we weren’t executed and were once again free to do something insanely asinine! Regretfully, I’m afraid there may have been several fatalities that day due to our unscheduled terrorism and I sincerely feel bad about it…after all, we lost our Jai Alai wagers and two bottles of Mezcal because of that stupid dynamite.

The End.

(Thanks for the bribe money, Dr. Nutz.)