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Any day now, all life on Earth will end as we know it.

98 Degrees is reuniting for a new album.

Just kidding. Actually, the cicadas are returning.

I actually wasn’t kidding about that 98 Degrees thing.

But that’s not what we’re here to talk about, because, you see, I said:


Every seventeen years, like clockwork, these creepy little oversized grasshoppers emerge from the ground, make a hell of a lot of noise, mate and go back underground for another seventeen years. It’s kind of like Congress, only the cicadas will actually manage to pass a few laws.

BOOM! That’s free political humor, baby!

So, the cicadas have been gone since 1996. That’s a long time. They’ve missed a lot. We here at the blog got to thinking about what the cicadas might do during the brief time they’re in town. Here’s a few ideas.

  • Pee. They must be about ready to explode. I can barely make it through a 6-8 hour night of sleep.
  • Avoid hitting the bars. This one is true. They especially don’t want to go here, where they will be served as part of the drink. Swear to god.
  • Catch up on Downton Abbey.
  • Find out how the series “The X-Files” finally ended. Spend some time feeling let down.
  • Get strip searched at the airport. “I’ve been underground seventeen years! I didn’t know! …No, I hibernate underground. I do not have an underground terrorist cell.”
  • Wash the bedsheets. Ripe, man.
  • Make some prank calls, only to discover everyone has cell phones now, sort of making prank calling stupid and ineffectual.
  • Get an iPad app that will calculate for them what year they are supposed to emerge from hibernation next time, because counting is so 1996.
  • Check their investment portfolios they last reviewed in 1996. Incessant buzzing is replaced by sobbing.
  • “We went to war with who?”
  • Which country is threatening us now?”
  • Restock the underground hibernation hole with Cheetos, Maker’s Mark, and insect porn (Oh, it’s out there. This. Is. The. Internet.)
  • Fly around and make a really annoying buzzing sound for hours on end. It’s how they roll.

CICADA TOUR 2013 (I so wish I’d had t-shirts made up.)


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