Tag Archives: survival

The Armageddon: Facts And Somewhat Of A Survival Guide

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Suppose the armageddon hits. Nearly everyone is completely obliterated into oblivion. It was a Tuesday and you commuting to work. Somehow, the lead based paint on your 1970′s Honda compact stopped enough of the radiation from turning you into a mile of glowing green mush. There’s only a few of you left on the planet. Here are some facts and tips to make your survival that much sweeter:

-Unless you learn to sew, the amount of clean, fresh underwear in the world is on a steady decline. Learn to sew.

-You didn’t know it back then, but all of those forts you built as a child were really good practice for the new home you’re going to have to erect.

-How fucking useless is your iPhone now?

-Fulfill your childhood dreams and move into that old abandoned toy factory. Yes, it’s the end of the world, yes, you are going to eventually go insane, and yes, living in a toy factory is pretty disturbing in its own right. Fuck it. At least you’ll have something to play with until you go delusional and become haunted with paranoia that the toys have turned on you and will murder you in your sleep.

-Learn the difference between and the proper uses of there, their, and they’re. Skills like these will greatly prepare you to reenter the job force.

-Hope you like beards. Everyone’s going to have one eventually, even the women and children.

-It’ll be sad to think you’ll never find your precious childhood rubber ducky amongst the rubble, but after realizing there aren’t even any real ducks left, the sadness will fade a little.

-Vagina was a limited natural resource before, but now it’s nearly impossible to get a hold of. So, when you find one of these elegant and docile creatures, be sure to treat her to a nice meal. By nice meal, I mean that pack of powdered donuts that is only two months passed expiration and that last bottle of Diet Shasta Orange you’ve got stashed away back at your fort. …Oh, and remember to make her laugh. They love that.

-Train cockroaches to perform a little circus act for you. Sure, it’s not much of a survival tactic; it’d just be something neat to spend your free time on. And face it, you’ve got a hell of a lot of free time now.

-You should probably print this out and keep it on your person at all times. Counting on having internet access after the apocalypse is about as sound of an idea as using a sex toy that plugs into a wall outlet.

Calling Myself Names

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-Scarecrow: you have to appreciate that name for how honest and literal it is. Now we just need to start calling shoes “foot holders”, umbrellas “rain stoppers”, and condoms “can’t feel a thing might as well be jerking it”.

-You know a music album is really terrible when you download it but yet still feel ripped off.

-When you go to a strip club and your dancer has nipples that taste like cheap beer, it’s a sign that you probably weren’t the first to kiss her nibbly-bibblies. Either that or she has some seriously awesome hygienic mutation.

-Speaking of strip clubs, have you ever noticed that stories about trips to a strip club are a lot like fishing stories? Each time you hear the story told it gets wilder and crazier than the last version you heard. “So there I was, at Heart Stoppers’ Gentlemen’s Club, under one arm I had the head of the robotic dinosaur I had to kill in the parking lot and under the other arm I was carrying the urn filled with my grandmother’s ashes. Guess who came on stage to dance next! …Come on, guess!? Carmen fucking Electra, man! It was a crazy night!”

-Rumors travel around the office almost as fast as Chlamydia. If rumors travelled faster then the office would have known that sleeping with each other on the latest business trip would a great way to get an STD.

-I was talked into having a few drinks by this great tag line “This tequila is so good, it will make love to your mouth.” The part they didn’t tell me was that it wasn’t nearly as loving or as gentle the next morning when it passed through my mouth a second time.

-If I’m ever stranded in the desert, I’ll just call a friend and have them mail me some ice cubes or something. Sounds like a good plan to me.

-I want to start my own delicious pastry business. To stand out though, all of our products will be named depressing names, like Cupcakes of Misery, As Close As You’ll Ever Get To The Feeling of The Real Thing Apple Pie, and Because You Live In Your Mom’s Basement Chocolate Chip Cookies. At check-out, we’ll insult your appearance.

-Pretend you were in some weird knife swallowing accident and your voice box was forever damaged; would you rather have to sound like Darth Vader or have to talk like Elmo from Sesame Street for the rest of your life?

-Well now I’m off to the gym; partially to get in shape, but mostly because I enjoy being surrounded by sweaty, smelly people.