How to Survive a Wasteland Apocalypse

How will you survive wandering through a barren wasteland? We all live in dread of zombie apocalypse but what if the imminent danger lies in fresh water diluting the Gulf Stream because of sunspots? This doesn’t even have a good ring to it. Plus, we don't even get to kill zombies.

This past weekend, my dad was talking about Britain freezing over and everyone starving not being able to grow food. I realize that I don't watch the news, but you would think something like Britain freezing over would have somehow made itself apparent. Now I am thinking, "Damn, did I miss the apocalypse?"

Then, Dad tells me to read this book. Most of the books he recommends are history books, so I was a little taken aback to realize this one was not history book, but rather a graphic and catastrophic description of our near future. I am reading along as this guy discusses sunspots and water salinity; suddenly, I turn the page and entire continents are frozen over with everyone fighting each other for food.

I know what you are thinking, “Oh, MY continent wouldn’t freeze.” Well, as it turns out, even if your particular continent is not frozen over, you are still screwed. All the people on non-frozen continents are going to be in desert wastelands with no water, also fighting for food.

To make matters worse, I read all this right before going to bed. Not a good idea. Needless to say, I woke up at 2:00 a.m. in a panic attack, trying to figure out how long we have before I take the family out rummaging through the city dump for a toothbrush because no one can manufacture them anymore.

Being the reasonable person that I am, I decided to take matters into my own hands and consult a panel of experts on how to best handle the matter. My panel of wasteland survival experts was carefully chosen based on strict qualifications. The most important of these qualifications was being on Twitter during my terror-induced insomnia.

According to Twitter Wasteland Apocalypse Panel expert, @lahikmajoe, “For the food scarce wasteland, it’s best to train. Scheming is also a plus.” This logic seems fairly solid; therefore, I have broken down the basic steps to surviving wasteland apocalypse into two stages, planning and scheming.

Stage One: Planning

1. Start stashing creamed corn under your bed. I cannot overemphasize that you need to start this step IMMEDIATELY. In a barren wasteland where people are fighting for food, this stuff will be like gold. Panel expert @daralynnieloo recommends Twinkies, because, “They never ever go bad and there are like a zillion of them.” However, the main flaw in this food choice is that if you have cartons of Twinkies under your bed, you, or someone you know, might be tempted to eat them. This will NEVER happen with creamed corn.

2. Go to Germany to buy wasteland insurance. @lahikmajoe, told me for a fact that “in Germany, one can get wasteland insurance. It’s all very practical.” @lahikmajoe… Please let us know when your insurance company starts handing out the creamed corn. We may need to get a head start on this thing.

3. Select a wasteland appropriate pet. What kind of pet should you have for a wasteland apocalypse? I know you are thinking hobos, but hobos will do you no good in this situation. They actually like creamed corn and will thus use up all your resources. You need a pet that will ideally help you find food and defend your castle. (Yes, we will all be getting castles, details forthcoming).

According to panel expert @AgentDragonFly, pet selection of the future is about “whose pet can destroy other people and bring their food to YOU.” She also has a groundbreaking theory that “bringing pterodactyls back would be helpful.”  They are in fact, “the birds of the tomorrow, but yesterday.”

I know you are all set to order some pterodactyl eggs on Amazon.com, but before you act too hastily, I must let you know that there is some contention on this issue.  @daralynnieloo, is adamant that, “Dinosaurs would be HORRIBLE pets.” She has done some research in this area and referenced a movie called Jurassic Park. It seems to have ended badly, mainly because of velociraptors.

However, pterodactyls are birds. Everyone knows that birds make good pets. You almost never see any movies about birds lingering around, waiting to peck people's eyes out. So the main point of contention must be the velociraptors. Can a velociraptor be trained as a post apocalypse pet? @AgentDragonFly insists that the urge to track and kill humans can be mediated through medication. However, I know people on medication who would still poke your eye out as soon as look at you. Maybe it’s all about the dosage.

Stage Two: Scheming

Wasteland apocalypse is a problem easily solved through social media. Social media is the new solution for everything. As soon as you hear on the news that the wasteland apocalypse has started, everyone grab all your creamed corn and go to your nearest Medieval Times Castle.  (You have pretend castles in Germany, right, @lahikmajoe? Oh, yeah… you have REAL ones. Good luck with that.)

Together, we will storm the castle.  You might be worried that your skill level at storming castles is below par, but there is no reason for concern. There will be knights in armor coming at you, but I have seen these guys in action. Everyone they kill gets up again a few minutes later when they think no one is looking.

Now that you have the basic survival steps for the upcoming wasteland apocalypse, you probably want to do more. You yearn to unite through social media on important issues so your significant other will quit rolling their eyes when you mention wasteland apocalypse pterodactyl pets.  Lucky for you, I have listed a few ways below in which you can contribute to the overall plan based on your unique talents of either planner or schemer.

Planners:

You can be key in settling the velociraptor pet controversy. @daralynnieloo‘s apprehension lies in the fact that they are incredibly smart, they jump really high, open doors and steal snacks out of vending machines, all without opposable thumbs, thus making velociraptor the “#1 scariest animal.” And also they eat people. On the other hand, @AgentDragonFly insists they can be trained, much like a T-Rex, or a pit bull.

Your task as a planner is to explain how velociraptors will make good/horrifying pets for the wasteland apocalypse. If you are going to claim they make good pets, you must substantiate your claim by explaining how you will get them to not eat us.

Schemers:

We are currently taking suggestions for alternate fortresses we can take over by force. Medieval Times has beer on tap and lots of room for the pterodactyls to fly around, but if you’ve got a better suggestion… let’s have it.

How to Improve Your Life with a Metal Chicken

Never drink margaritas by the pool with my friend Michiel if you do not want a giant cow ringing your doorbell.  Okay, I admit I partially brought this on myself by mentioning that my life is incomplete without a giant chicken. I also need to admit that the cow isn’t actually a giant cow. It is life-size. Cows are apparently larger than they look when you are passing them by on the highway. She wanted to get me a giant chicken, but due to the fact that the animals available through this company are life-size, the chicken would have been really disappointing. She made up for this by getting me a life-size penguin. They are also larger than they seem when you are passing them by on the highway.

Life-size cardboard cows and penguins are as good if not better than giant metal chickens. Plus, she got extra points for assembling these creatures at a gas station on the way to my house. If you ever see someone assembling life-size cardboard animals at gas station, please pull over and tell them they are doing a good job. They deserve some recognition.

The surprises continue as we leave the cardboard animals and are now on our way to…

The Crazy Lady Giant Chicken Store

The minute we drive up, I know that Michiel means business on getting me a giant metal chicken. The yard in front of the store is cluttered with giant metal chickens, concrete bird baths, a giant metal zebra, some flamingos, a donkey, and a group of wild metal boars. We are clearly in the right place, and decide to take a look inside.

Crazy Lady greets us at the door of her collection. The tractor seat bar stools, leather rugs, knife and fork wind chimes, and cat magnets wait tantalizingly in the distance as this woman tells us in detail how she hurt her back lifting the concrete yard art outside. She couldn’t move for three days. Now she is getting rid of them. She can help us out with the larger ones, but not the smaller ones, because you can’t really come down from $21 dollars. Now I am distracted. Is there some sort of new numbering system that stops at 21? How can you not come down from 21? 20. There… I did it: Nobel Prize for me. I regret not asking her if she would come down from $22 dollars. However, we did not come here for concrete birdbaths. We came for…

Metal Chickens. Or Roosters... Choosters.

So, we are looking at all these metal roosters, because even though we keep calling them chickens, they are actually roosters. We don’t care though, because saying metal chicken over and over is much more fun that saying the word ‘rooster.’ Michiel picks up a rooster. We both take a look at this guy and can tell right away he has character. Character is what counts in a metal chicken-rooster. Suddenly, Crazy Lady jumps out from behind a wagon wheel table like a ninja and asks, with way too much enthusiasm, “Do you like roosters???” Michiel and I exchange glances, and look at her in silence, because, really... who LIKES roosters? I immediately tell Crazy Lady: “NO, I don’t like roosters. I came here to buy the metal chicken that will solve all my life problems. I didn’t come here because I ‘like roosters.’ What kind of nutcase do you think I am?? JEEZ!” Or... at least that is what I said inside my head. I’ve learned from past experience not to say these things out loud.

Unaware of the rant going on inside my head, Crazy Lady begins showing us all her assorted roosters. We are letting her go through her spiel, despite the fact that she blatantly refuses to participate in calling them chickens. She explains to us that each rooster is unique: “I design them. Then I send the designs to my Mexicans who make them by hand.”

I know what you are thinking. Yes, she said, “MY Mexicans.” Now I am pissed off. Remember when I said I wanted a pet and Sidney and Jack W said to get a hobo because they make their own gravy?  Then, lahikmajoe had to bring up the possibility of legal issues. Plus, daralynnieloo was concerned with how the hobo would be acquired. The final blow to my idea came from debihen who stated that hobos make "lousy pets" being "too noisy" with "demands hard to ignore." Well… you guys are WRONG! This woman has a whole bunch of Mexicans in a room somewhere that are hers! I wasn’t even going to make my hobo carve out metal roosters. This is so unfair.

To make a long story less long, Michiel bought a metal donkey. I really liked the donkey, but felt like we had made the trip for a metal chicken, and I would be a fool not to buy one.

Horatio and Amos

So, now that I have the metal chicken that will solve everything, and Michiel has a metal donkey, our next stop is…

The Truck Stop with Giant Cups and Magic Scale

First, I notice this truck stop has toenail clipper key chains available. I never knew that clipping my toenails while driving was an option. This could really free up my day. The truck stop also has drink cups that are the size of buckets. The buckets are only a dollar, but Michiel tells me we can’t buy them because they wont fit in her cup holders.  I imagine that spilling one of these would be equivalent to an in-car tsunami, and agree that purchasing cups this size is not an option. Michiel gets a modest 20 oz cup, apparently meant for an enormous amount of coffee. I follow suit, somewhat reluctantly.

Waiting for everyone to fill their buckets takes a while, so I use the time to ask a guy ahead of us how he plans on holding his 52 oz bucket of drink while driving. He explains, proudly, that he has a cup holder, or bucket holder, that will accommodate.  I nod, and notice that his six-year old is filling up a drink bigger than ours. Then, much to my dismay, we can’t even find straws for our little dainty cups. Even the straws are bucket-sized!  

This thing could put out your eye.

On the plus side, was a scale in the bathroom that, for a quarter, will tell you your EXACT weight, the winning lottery numbers, and your fortune. Now I am realizing I got distracted and never read my fortune. Hopefully, it said I win the lottery because I totally bought that ticket. After all, a scale told me to.  The weight seemed exact, so logic dictates the lottery numbers will be as well.  A scale has never told me to do anything, so I don’t have any past comparisons regarding reliability.

In conclusion, yesterday I had nothing. Today, I have a metal chicken, a life-sized cow and penguin, a cup with an enormous straw, and a lottery ticket. My life is complete.

FINALLY!

References:
For anyone who does not understand how a giant metal chicken can solve everything...
My friend Jenny has this blog.

Making Time for Yourself

This entry is less of a helpful tool, and more of a personal rant… fair warning. But, there still will be t-shirts. However, they won’t exist. Honestly, I don’t even know why you are reading this. There must be something better you could be doing.

Just so you know, I get up thirty minutes early every morning to go to the park with my dog. There is a reason I have chosen a dog for this activity. Even though I have to remind her not to roll in poo on the ground, she is quiet. Her idea of a conversation is a pat on the head and maybe a good rub behind the ear. People on the other hand, are more demanding.

For example, one Sunday morning on our way to the park, I suddenly realized was MOTHER’S DAY. Walking along a sidewalk on Mother’s Day probably doesn’t seem like such a terrible idea, much in the same way that a few slow moving undead flesh eaters would seem like a serious threat on the first day of zombie apocalypse. However, all the mothers being taken out to breakfast before church were in such a good mood that they seemed compelled to accost me with cheerfulness on their way to being tucked into minivans. I find it extremely unfair to have to deal with cheerful people before I have had coffee. Also, watching these giddy women in dresses and flowers headed to breakfast then church made me feel slightly sad for them. I began to wonder if I could hire a sniper to kill me if I ever walk into a Denny’s on a Sunday morning wearing a corsage. How would you even find a good sniper? Angie’s List? Now I am worried about how the sniper interview would go. Would he bring a resume? What if all his references are dead? What if they aren't?

Of course, Mother’s Day is a once a year event. There are daily obstacles to my being able to make it though the first part of the morning without having to be nice to people. Don’t get me wrong. I am nice to people. I am nice to people all day. I simply prefer not to start too early.

My primary obstacle is a next-door neighbor who gets up very early. She is also quite old. These two aspects blend perfectly into at least five minutes of the day sucked right out of my system. Instead of being on my way to the park, I find that the, “Hi, how are you” which I intended to be the entirety of the conversation will instantly slide into a discussion of how I think the Cowboys are doing this year, and where I think the people who mow her lawn should place the bags of yard trimmings. Neither of these topics are anywhere near my area of expertise. Another concern is that she talks extremely slow. I am not sure if this is because people slow down as they get older, or if everyone else speeds up. When I am finally free to continue to the park, I am now worried that one day I will be living alone and moving in slow motion, perplexed by bags of lawn trimmings. Not a good start for the day.

Another obstacle is my companions in the park itself. Most of these people have the same goal as I do and present no problem. ‘Headphones Bald Man’ is content to continue his walk with a simple nod. ‘Friendly Cyclist’ is fine with a smile and a ‘hi’ as his bike whizzes past. ‘Guy with Hat Walking Dogs through Field’ waves from a distance. The only one who presents a problem is ‘Strange Hippie Chick.’ The problem with this person is that she is not content with simply walking, running, or cycling through the park. In my mind, if you are not a teenager smoking pot, these are the only acceptable park behaviors. She stretches, does yoga moves, and at one point I actually caught her doing jumping jacks. I find it very disturbing. The last time I encountered ‘Strange Hippie Chick,’ she was picking up a couple of Dasani bottles from curb of the parking lot. While I appreciate her efforts to keep the park clean of debris, I did not expect her to look right at me and declare with a menacing tone, “People are pigs.”

I am not sure what to do with that information. Plus, she has gotten off lightly as far as trash pickup is concerned. I have picked up pizza boxes there once. One morning, I even picked up some beer cans. Although I looked like I had just finished off several huge cans of Milwaukee’s Best in the space of time it took me to walk to the trash can, I never thought twice about it. Why does she get to be agitated over a couple of water bottles? Maybe she was mad that the park no option for recycling. Maybe she was upset because Dasani is a Coca-Cola product. Hippies are hard to figure out.

So, if you see people in the morning, please do not bother them by wearing flowers to breakfast, doing jumping jacks, or asking them what to do with bags of leaves and grass clippings. On the other hand, if you are up early and want to be left alone, please try wearing one of the following t-shirts.



Appreciation for those who respect your space



An admonition for those who refuse to leave you alone until you have had coffee

For people who can't take a hint



This one hasn’t been field tested yet, but I think it is a great idea.
No one wants to stop and chat when they are afraid they might have a bee in their hair.



Update on Satanic Apparel

Official Satan-Wear is Now Available

Apparently Zazzle will let just anyone on their website, allowing Satan to begin the official production of the ‘Satan thinks I’m cool’ t-shirt. I am assuming that there is a process in place before purchase to make sure Satan actually thinks you are cool. Also, there is a legal agreement to prevent unapproved individuals from borrowing and then wearing the shirt. Don’t even ask about giving the shirt as a gift because there is a background check requiring wearer of the shirt to have at least a misdemeanor criminal offense, or proof you have killed a kitten. Satan is flexible.

However, the good news is that I hear there are plans for a ‘Satan’s Minion’ shirt that will be more accessible. These shirts will be part of the mandatory hell dresscode, so you should probably go ahead and buy a few just so you can get the feel of it.

How to Make and Maintain Influential Friendships

It is important to make and maintain friendship with influential individuals in order to use them to sway the circumstances of the world in your favor. Developing these relationships can be a long arduous process. You can expedite this process by following the steps outlined here for you today.

Step One: Become friends with Satan.

That is about it. Once you are friends with Satan, you will have everything you need. I am pretty sure Satan knows all the politicians and Donald Trump. You really don’t need anyone else after that, except maybe a good plumber.

I am sure the next question you may ask is, “But how do I become friends with Satan?” The answer is to win at Twitter. If you had kept up with my blog, you would be winning at Twitter by now. If you were winning at Twitter, you would already be friends with Satan. I know this, because @sataninsingsing AKA Satan is following me. And Satan thinks I am funny. Don’t take my word for it. Satan tweeted this to me in person, quote: “I ONLY follow cool people. Y’all have to make me laugh to join my list.” Of course, Satan also thinks @whoremongers, @ellie159, @PolyesterPony, and @whejas are worth following, but I to think that I am foremost in the group of people Satan is currently laughing at.

Another concern you may have regarding this blatant ploy for access to the powers of evil might be that trip to hell they discussed during Catechism or Vacation Bible School. Don’t worry about it. Satan has reassured me that, “my hell is AWESOME. We have booze, snacks, and lots of laughs.” Religious leaders will only tell you about the fire and brimstone, never about the snacks.

Being on Satan’s short list is quite the accomplishment. @PolyesterPony stated it best, exclaiming in all caps, “SATAN THINKS I’M COOL.” You can’t get a much higher recommendation than that. You might try to go the other route and befriend a Saint, or even Jesus, but these people will never think you are cool. They want to hang out with individuals who are charitable, benevolent, and know how to sing. They don’t even care if you are cool. Is that what you want? To NOT be cool? I didn’t think so.

Also, if you are friends with Satan, you get to go to all the after-hours Rapture parties. I hear they’re the best. Plus, @jason_mraz might be playing. Satan is following him too.

Oh.. and don't forget to visit Satan's Blog: http://www.satangoestosingsing.com/ (OF COURSE Satan has a blog). You have to make time for these things when you are ruler of the underworld.