Ok…not all of it.  Just a piece of the sky that is the size of a bus is careening toward Earth as I peck this out on the keyboard. 

Don't believe me?  Normally dismissing my comments is something that is warranted.  Today I have the power of You Tube to add to my credibility:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sxPv1gQDon0

That's right people 70 tons of floating angry metal is coming down to give us a fiery "Howdy Doo".   Oh and the kicker is the satellite might contain hazardous material.  That is the issue that I need clarified.  What is the material they are talking referring to.  After all anti-freeze can be kind of hazardous if consumed, so if that is what they are talking about than I am cooler than Fonzi about the whole thing.  However, if it is a blog of glowing purple bio-waste that can hold a press conference after landing than my reaction will be one of a extreme, yet quick bladder release.  

Realism break:  Um…ok John.  The odds of being affected by this piece of space debris are as slim as your chances would be with a croc in a televised cage match. 

My response:  I am the master of disaster.  Unbelievable things happen to me on a daily basis.  Yesterday I just watched a seventy year old man and a teenager get into a brawl at the checkout stand of Safeway over the 17 cents.  I have been assaulted by a demonic deer in the middle of a retail store.  I have been run over by a pack of bicyclists training in France.  I saw a Chupacabra.  I can go on…but I am sure you get my point.  I attract problems, and as I see it I am a magnet for this radioactive fire ball.>>

Ok sure. I am a paranoid chump by nature.  I am usually convinced that the police officer following me while I drive is planning on pulling me over for a crime I did not commit.  I am overly friendly to my waiter so he will not have cause to conspire with the cook to do something unspeakable to my food.  I assume that birds receive a picture of me in their pre-flight morning briefings so that they can target me with their poopage.  I am convinced that whenever I browse around at Barnes and Noble there is a camera following me around so that the employees can spy on what books I am looking at.  If someone asks me "if I am feeling ok" my immediate response is "do I look sick? Or "Is it cancerous?  Or of course… "What do you know about my health records?   Have they been posted online somewhere?"

So, yes I assume that everything is about me.  Not in an arrogant view of myself because I think the sun rises and falls with my heartbeat.  Mostly it is because I am a glass half empty person…and the part that is half full is filled with two week old beet juice.   This is not something I am proud of.  It is just a character trait of mine that has been beaten into me by a lifetime of crazy situations that only seem like they happen to me. 

Keep this rant of mine in mind when you hear in early March that a huge piece of burning wreckage fell out of the sky, burned through the roof of a movie theater, took a "magical" right turn in the lobby before opening the door to the exact theater I was in, floating down the ramp and into the crowd, making eye contact with me, and then finally resting its 3000 degree casing on my lap.

>>

I really don't know anything about satellites.   I understand that we shoot them into space so that they can do amazing things for me down here.   I for one probably benefit from these orbiting devices more than most people.  I watch more TV than a brainwash victim, I use a cell phone, and I check the weather radar more than my 80 year old mother.  So maybe it is only fitting that this one will seek me out so that I will pay my pound of flesh for all that he and his brothers do for me.  Still, how many of these things in the next few years are just going to decide to give up on their electrical paper route and set their course on the blue marble below?  Are these things just a small malfunction away from going from being the source of MTV to becoming a fire bomb?  Heck if the spy satellites (which I am sure are fancy fancy) are giving out then what about the ones that were built at radio shack by a dude named "Carl"?

This is why I should not watch the news.

Where are Bruce Willis and Ben Affleck when we need them?