I started watching the television series “Lost” last night.
The reasons for this are uninteresting and irrelevant.
But the first three episodes have prompted me to begin to establish some end-of-world scenario rules.
Because much of my daily existence is geared toward apocalyptic survival: eating expired foods, going unshowered for amounts of time that far exceed socially acceptable limits, running, adopting a puppy. (Seriously, puppies are like little zombie machines. They’ll gnaw on you in your sleep.)
Tonight the boy pulled a jar of applesauce out of the pantry and questioned it’s color, composition, and expiration date.
Nah, man. That’s stuff’s still good. (It is. I tasted it. It’s fine. But he won’t put it in the fridge and I won’t throw it away, so we’re at a bit of a stalemate here…)
At any rate, if we’re going to survive the apocalypse together, we need some rules. I’ll start.
If you’re the chick or dude that’s gonna just stand there and scream in terror loudly, providing the zombies or sound-driven machines our exact location, then this adventure is not for you. You’re going to have to take one for the team here and just offer yourself up to the monsters. This is for your benefit as well as mine. Clearly you’re not gonna enjoy the challenge that an apocalypse can offer. I’m looking at basic quality of life. So, it’s for the best. You’re welcome.
If you are the chick or dude that’s just gonna sit around tanning yourself while the rest of us do the work, fine. I’m actually gonna allow that. You can stop reading here. None of the rest of this concerns you.
(Quick aside to the rest of you surviving this with me – this is gonna be our bait human. When the zombie apocalypse machine approaches, we’re gonna creep slowly away and allow the sunkissed one to be the distraction while we relocate.)
We’re obviously gonna need a doctor, because he’s the only one that seems to be holding his shit together in this show. I don’t know or live in close proximity to many of those, so I’m gonna need several of you to get your asses to med school. And chances are you’re gonna thin out quick in an apocalypse, so I need strong numbers here to increase the odds of at least one doctor surviving.
I feel like we might have the cooking part covered. I know several of you can cook, you just be holding out on me with those skills. That’s cool. Just know that when the time comes, I’m gonna insist on your consistent demonstration of those skills. We’re not gonna want to rely on my culinary skills. And y’all should probably start practicing your homemade Dorito recipes now to get that perfected. It’s important. For me AND FOR YOU.
Initially, I thought this might cover it.
But tonight I ran what I was told was a trail run, which has made a few more rules necessary.
If you’re the dude that says that we need to seek out higher ground, you become the leader of the trek by default. So, when you say you know a trail, I’m gonna need you to be clear on what a trail looks like. It does not, for example, look like this:
See the issue? There is no trail there.
(Note: If GJB is among the survivors, he does not get to be the leader. He has abused his position and violated what little trust I had in him to lead.)
We will also be designating someone as the tick checker. This is important in case Leader turns out to be incompetent and leads us into a kudzu-covered tickfest. The tick checker will be a dude. And he will be hot. This is largely to alleviate Endong’s excessive worry about not being able to eat meat again. The tick check thing. Not the hot dude thing. That part is for me.
And if I get too cranky because someone forgot to save the coffee and Cook’s Dorito recipe sucks, then just get me to a view like this and I’ll calm down … for a bit. But you’re probably gonna want to make sure there’s a cold beer there somehow. Just to be safe.
And also, if Kim and I happen to survive the apocalypse together, which seems likely given our propensity for worst case scenario situations, we’re sorry. Everything that happens after that point is going to be our fault and we sincerely apologize. That shit just follows us.
Now, where’s my hot tick checker dude? I’m not sure the shower was sufficient after tonight’s escapades…