Danger, Will Robinson!

Okay, so last night, sated on the five bazillion crap celebrity magazines kindly sent my way by Doris Rose, hung over from hours and hours and hours of Fashion Television's coverage of New York Fashion Week (and, no, I still will NOT be wearing bubble skirts for spring!), and totally over the fact that the season premier of Prison Break seems to be more same ol', same ol' only somewhere in South 'merica, I finally decided to grow the heck up for one night and watch some "serious" television.

Which turned out to be a huge mistake. When I set out to watch some serious television, Party People, I am seeking edification. The kind of information I can drolly trot out at parties with the sole purpose of stunning friends and relatives with the realization that yes, I simply have waaaaay too much time on my hands. What I do not seek, however, is to have the sweet beejeebus scared out of Moi.

So, like, I've been keeping up with my reading in quantum physics and all, but holy heck, still somehow managed to miss this little nugget of info:

Apparently, scientists have known for years that black holes, far from being rare anomalies in the space/time continuum, are, in fact, as common as Crocs on the feet of the masses at Wal-Mart. And that black holes exist, get this, at the center of every galaxy in the known universe, including our very own home turf, the Milky Way.

And, Party People, these black holes are hungry.

Granted, some are hungry like this:


But others are hungry like THIS:


In other words, ALL black holes have appetites and are munching down on their galaxies.

Question isn't if we'll be consumed. Question is WHEN:


So what am I doing in the meantime?

La, la, la, la, la, la, la.