It's the end of the world as we know it. So go out feeling fine! Maybe with a bottle of Veuve Cliquot and the ones you love nearby.
Skip cleaning the litterbox. Tell your husband to iron his own darn shirts. Tell his mother to stop being a buttinski. Oh, and her hair color makes her look like Guy Fieri. Buy the $10-a-pint Jeni Ice Cream, and eat it in one sitting wearing the Manolo Blahniks you just maxed out the credit card to get. What, like Citibank's going to follow you to the afterlife?
Happy doomsday, Avon!
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