Monday morning on the radio was a blurb on National Pravda Radio about a scum sucking, ass licking, testicle gargling, monkey molesting lawyer who sold something online and the guy left feedback along the lines of the seller had the morals of a used car salesman. Which, obviously, is a great insult to used car salesmen because compared to lawyers they are salt of the earth and first in line to enter heaven. Let’s just say, purely for the sake of argument and not reflecting my actual future plans whatsoever, but just as a theoretical exercise, the apocalypse has occurred and all my ammunition has been used up killing Yuppie Scum ( I hang my head in shame as I report that a Yuppie Social Club, also known as a sushi bar, has opened in cowboy country up here in Elko ) who tried to run me over in their SUV’s so they could take me back to their McMansion and put me in the stew pot since the only thing they had in their cupboard was a two for one coupon to Starbucks. I now have a total of one round of ammunition left. Suddenly, there appears not too far away a mob of zombies. Next to that group is my ex-wife #2 and following her is a lawyer. Do I turn the gun on myself so I don’t become a flesh eater? Finally extract my revenge on the wallet parasite? Or do I shoot the lawyer, the likes of which have helped destroy this country? I need to think of these things now, because when the time comes I’ll only have a split second to decide. This is going to be a tough one. The lawyer didn’t win, but the commenter had to pay six grand in legal fees, which is the same as losing. Remember, once the government collapses and the laws no longer apply, it is your sacred duty to help eliminate all former politicians, lawyers, bankers and child molesters. If you are short of ammunition, you can wait on the molesters. Just castrate them, another good reason to have a rifle that was designed to effectively use a bayonet ( hint- not the M-16 ).
Last weekend I decided to trade in my Helicopter Ben Federal Reserve Notes ( HB-FRN’s ) for something I could actually use to keep me alive after the collapse. Sure, you could use the money to wipe your ass with, but better to use it now to buy something like insulation. I meandered down to Home Despot and filled the truck with one inch rigid board insulation. I was going to turn the Hippy Bread Van into a super insulated home, but due to the cost and my recent income drop I decided to compromise and turn a quarter of the trailer into a smaller version. My thought is to go under the trailer and liquid nail on the insulation under the floor of the living room, where I spend most of my waking hours ( the foam will go between the metal frame to protect it from wind and dogs ). When I construct my solar heater, I’ll close off the windows with insulation. Also, I’ll add some squishy foam to the ceiling and hang a blanket between the living room and the kitchen. This should go a long way making it warmer next winter. If it ever stops raining and snowing I’ll keep on working on the Bison Compound Deluxe Bomb Shelter Complex. Right now, a two to four foot deep hole, eight by eight. One of these days, my underground lair/hovel. My whole point here was that not an hour after I got home, the winds picked up to Guinness record book level hurricane force and stayed that way for almost 48 hours. And the week before it was almost as bad.
I pulled into the casino at seven in the morning to cash my paycheck. It was a crisp 25 degrees, the day before Easter. This started our spring off normally. I was dressed for it, with my two wool sweaters and a poly beanie and wool glove liners. I come out of the casino, all cocky since I now had a whopping $300 for two weeks expenses, and the truck wouldn’t turn over. Now, while not being at all mechanically inclined, I knew enough to futz with the battery cables. Nothing. Okay, no need to panic. I’ll walk to work, about two miles, drink some coffee and wait for a respectable hour and call a former co-worker who is a mechanic. As soon as I started walking, the artic blast went right through me. While well dressed for twenty five degrees, I was not well dressed for 25 plus a wind. I walked at a pretty good pace, cursing myself all the way. I usually subconsciously ask myself if I am dressed warm enough in case the truck breaks down and I need to walk back home. But I didn’t this time. My bike is not the same, as I always dress for wind. Even if there is none, I generate my own. Perhaps I was hoping against hope it would actually be spring.
I know better, and yet I screwed up. I preach to all you yahoos and then do the same dumbass crap. Always drive like you might have to walk. Even if all those layers are in a bag in the trunk ( although, I would do the backseat floorboard-what if you are trapped and can’t get to the trunk? Hey, we’re talking being paranoid, not going by normal odds ). I certainly wasn’t going to get frostbite, but I was pretty humping cold. We got the truck going, and I hope I reinforced my own lesson to myself. You will only break down when you are not dressed for walking. And, speaking of cold weather clothing, I noticed that my local Wal-Mart still has a few thermal pieces on clearance for a buck. I can’t believe these idiots. Can’t they see what a screaming deal that is? Don’t they realize they might need them soon? Here, in Elko, three time winner of crappiest weather for its longitude award, and people don’t dress for the winter. I guess they figure the sushi will keep them warm.
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