Wednesday, December 19, 2012

How to Survive Jehovah's Witnesses (and, you know, that whole apocalypse thing).

So apparently, according to some calendar made by a bunch ancient assholes that disappeared a long ass time ago, we're all going to die on Friday. Even though, you know, the Mayans probably just didn't think that far ahead into the future and figured they make a new calendar later on. I mean, come on, the vast majority of us don't think the world is ending every time we reach the end of our kitten of the month calender. But I've gotta admit that I never expected the world to end on a Friday. I mean, sure, we've always assumed it would be a Monday, but I think Wednesdays are particularly evil and that's mostly because yesterday was Wednesday and it was pretty gnarly. I had to work on one of the few days where it gets cold enough for car windows to be iced over. And I got stuck in a one-lane traffic jam because the road workers had to close a lane for two or three miles so they could stare at a pot hole.

Anyway, there's probably a lot of things out there right now that tell you what you need to do for the imminent demise of the earth. But don't listen to them because they're boring and stupid and probably wrong. Instead listen to me because I'm smart and always right and I have a college degree that says "with honors" on it which really means that I'm the smartest person alive.

1. Amass your supplies.
This is probably the most urgent and pressing thing to do to prepare for an apocalypse. You need supplies after all--there's nothing worse than being without food or water when all of the fast food restaurants are closed. It's also probably the most boring thing. So do this quickly. Get plenty of water (you never know--the tap water could be poisoned by tricky zombies or something), canned food, blankets, flashlights, blah blah blah I'm already bored. Next!

2. Find a good place to hole up in.
Okay, so we don't know exactly what the apocalypse will entail. Zombies? Fire and brimstone? People suddenly turning into Jehovah's Witnesses and knocking on your door at 7am on a Saturday to tell you about the "good news?" Either way, it's going to be bad. And while locking yourself in your own house for protection may be your first answer, it may not be the best. While you may know where everything is and are better able to point out and fortify the weak spots, staying at home all day and night is sooooo booooooooring! So I have a better plan. Find a nearby store to fortify and hole up in. Think of how much more fun the apocalypse would be if you spent your final days riding the bikes and Power Wheels at Toys R Us. Right?! Personally, Pat and I plan to head to the nearest BevMo, stopping on the way to loot some televisions from Best Buy, of course, so we can drink the end of days away! Plus, they have some pretty tasty cheese platters and OMG, can you imagine the kind of apocalypse party you can have inside a freaking booze store?!

3. Embrace the looting.
It's the freaking apocalypse, dude. There's no better time to learn how to loot than now! Just think of it as Black Friday shopping, only you don't have to pay for anything and nobody is going to blast you on the news for trampling 10 year-old kids. I call that a double win. You, of course, want to loot for the necessities: toilet paper, water, blankets, anything that you forgot when you packed up all your shit in a big ass hurry because you wanted to stake your claim on BevMo before someone else got there first or, worse, stolen all the good booze and left you with Boone's Farm and Goldschlager. But don't forget the fun things: you'll need a television, a video game system with tons of games (bonus points if they're apocalypse-themed games. There's nothing more fun than taunting the pending doom by playing games with it. (Ha! See what I did there?!)), movies, board games, puzzles (hey, when you're bored and desperate, you'll be eyeing those puzzles like a cowboy begins to eye his horse after being lost in the wilderness for two weeks.), and maybe some Power Wheels from Toys R Us. Mostly because I've always wanted Power Wheels.

4. Don't be premature.
Sure, after reading all this, you're just waiting to get out there to loot some vibrators and stake your claim on the local Cost Co, but, like a Doctor Who fan on Christmas, you're just going to have to wait until that special airs, my friend. Yeah yeah, worst analogy ever. Shut up, I'm teaching you how to survive an apocalypse! There's nothing worse than getting arrested for premature looting right before the world ends. Because then, when it finally does happen, you'll be stuck in a jail cell, praying that a fire ball crashes into the wall so you can break free because otherwise? Nobody's going to remember to break you out of jail--especially while there's still looting to do! And by the time somebody finally does remember that your ass is still rotting in jail, all the good shit will already be looting and you'll be stuck using the industrial strength toilet paper and Virtual Boy (true story: Pat has one) while you fortify the gym. Which sounds pretty lame, but at least you'd be more buff than most of the other survivors which could work to your advantage when it comes time to repopulate the Earth and find a new leader. Touché.

5. Ignore everything I just said.
Your best means of survival is not taking survival advice from someone who plans to wait it out in a booze store*.

PS: As I just finished this post, I got a coupon e-mailed to me from BevMo. Silly BevMo. I won't need a coupon once the world ends.

*Not really true. My advice is solid and awesome and I'll be as drunk as I want while zombies try to break in (BTW: getting a zombie drunk would be the best thing ever!) or fireballs rain down on, or even as Jehovah's Witnesses leave another 100 pamphlets outside the door. My advice on everything is solid and awesome. Always. But, as I was writing this, I realized that if everyone followed my advice, the nearest BevMo might already be occupied by the time I got there and all the good shit would be looted and I really want that 60 inch TV so I can pretend like I'm in the theater while I'm watching The Hunger Games. And that really good sound system to drown out the sounds of death and sorrow, not to mention the knocks of the Jehovah's Witnesses.