Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.

it's apocalypse week on emmanation

The reasons that I would rock the apocalypse like it was a 1982 casbah:

  1. As a small person, I could hide under or behind things that larger people couldn't. Like rocks. And trees. And Army tanks. Also? I don't have to eat very much.
  2. My dogs (obviously I wouldn't go anywhere without them).
    1. They can find food from a half mile away, and they're totally willing to share with me.
    2. They TOTALLY hate zombies and would kick the shit out of one if necessary. (I have no proof of this, but I think it's a pretty safe assumption.)
    3. When it's cold we could all snuggle.
    4. They would help keep me clean. With their tongues. (What? It's not gross! They have clean mouths, and if I had to chose between being pretty with a little dog spit or all dirty I'd definitely go with the former.)
    5. I could stack them up on my head and people would think I was a) a monster or b) insane. Either way, they'd stay far away.
  3. My semi-problematic shopaholism/hoarding would mean that anything I might ever need, I'd probably have. For example, I have pans big enough to cook a human leg. Should the need arise. Which it wouldn't. But still.

The reasons the apocalypse would turn me into a snivelling baby in 2.3 seconds flat:

  1. If there were bombs, they would probably ruin all the wine. And the grape vines. And then? NO MORE WINE.
  2. Probably? The same bombs that ruined the wine? Would also ruin the internet. NO MORE INTERNET.
  3. I only have six remaining pairs of contact lenses. After that, I'd have to wear MY GLASSES.

Clearly, all of those are tragedies. You can tell because I capitalized them - that's the blogger code for tragedy. If you didn't already know that, you're welcome.

If we're voting, I'm going to say 'no' on the apocalypse thing.

P.S. Every single time I've typed apocalypse in this post, I spelled it apolcalypse and had to go back and fix it. Stupid fingers.

Day 721

palate cleanser