Sadly enough, the world selfishly didn’t end on 21st December, as sensationally reported to be predicted by Mayan buffoons. Even though we live to see another day, I still find it shocking that the EU didn’t make a single provision for the potential apocalypse on the off-chance that it wasn’t a load of crazy talk- selfish bastards. If the world had’ve ended, they’d certainly be redfaced come Monday.
I decided to do my bit for the gullible among us who went and camped up mountains in preparation for the end of the world by ensuring they weren’t disappointed when fuck all happened by going and knifing the silly bastards to death. There is something mightily satisfying about stabbing a tent wildly to haphazardly puncture the human content, kind of like Bobbing for Apples but with murder.
Anyway, due to a distinct lack of apocalypse survival guide material available so that we have a hope in hell of coping should the day come when the world does end, I’ve appointed myself to make up some stuff. Let me just say, there is no point worrying about the world ending- you are far more likely to die of old age or in some sort of freak accident, say for example, in which a knife wielding maniac ‘accidentally’ falls on your tent when you’re out camping. This guide is for emergencies only. Like the Emergency Chocolate that Sainsburys patronisingly markets towards women who’ve just broken a nail. Fuckers.
Right, here’s my top tips for surviving an apocalypse.
In any industry when things are likely to fall on top of you, hats equal safety, so why the fuck not? But remember, meteorites are rather hefty, so it’s best to make your own rather than shelling out for some plastic Taiwanese flim. Therefore, I will be making my wonderhat by turning a pot upside down, knifing two eyeholes in the bastard with that knife I used earlier to murder all those campers, and placing it on my head. Us gals- we’re nothing if not dedicated followers of fashion.
Whatever happened to Keane? I don’t even know if they’re still making music, and I’m scared that my laptop might die of embarrassment on my behalf if I Google it. But if they aren’t, you can still buy obtain all of their music in any Tombola at a Hospice fundraiser near you, providing your ticket ends with a ‘5’ or a ‘0’. Alternatively, you can recreate sounds of Keane from the comfort of your own home by trying to construct the song equivalent of the cheapest thing on the menu of a gastropub while chronically yawning and asking yourself, ‘What would the Lightning Seeds do?‘, all the while fussing with the funnelled neck of an navy polyester jumper by Jeremy Clarkson for Matalan because it’s giving you a rash. That’s Keane. An afternoon listening to their lyrical diarrhea will prepare you for the end of the world alright. You’ll be praying for the apocalyse.
Face Paint, Bandana and Gutsy Catchphrase
Although the other items listed in this guide are serious aids, I have to admit that this section is about basic vanity. Tying a bandana around your pot-helmet and smearing some face paint on it can help you to look all badass when you’re rolling around the ground while singing the Mission Impossible theme, pretending to hide from aliens, even though they have nothing to do with anything. It is also handy, in life generally but especially in the event of an apocalypse, to keep a gutsy catchprase in your mental holster incase you accidentally do something heroic and you want to get extra super-cool points. Mine is ‘Swinging shitbags!‘ but you’re more than welcome to use it, too. But if we’re together, I’m the only one who gets to say it and you have to act all surprised and clap at me in slow motion.
I went to see Vanilla Sky in the cinema, and it is, to date, the only film that I walked out of for fear of going insane with crapdom. While this was many years ago, I recall sitting in the cinema for around four decades before finally deciding that enough was enough and emerged into the real world with utter shock that, in fact, time did not stand still- it just felt like it had. So, in the event of an apocalypse, it is advisable that you retrieve your copy of Vanilla Sky from beneath the leg of your dining table that is slightly smaller than the others and throw it into your poor, unsuspecting DVD player. Hey presto- a vacuum via which time is automatically slowed, turning seconds into days. Now, you have all the time in the world to potter about with the well-meaning intention of building a spaceship to escape Earth but never actually getting round to it because you spent your Vanilla Sky centuries playing Farmville instead. And you have only yourself to blame, because Tom Cruise was stopping time just for you.
There’s no point in buying a saucepan, a Keane album and
a table wobbler stopper a copy of Vanilla Sky if you’re just going to go and starve to death afterwards, so you’ll need some form of food to keep you going while you hope that help is on it’s way while knowing deep down that death is inevitable. Best to pick something that is non-perishable and full of preservatives to prolong the life of the food. My suggestion is a KFC Bargain Bucket, as it is not only unpenetrable by bacteria due to bacteria not being hungover enough to be able to merely entertain the thought of it, it is also the most requested meal by inmates on Death Row as their last meal, thus, it’s very presence will make you glad that soon, your charred remains are going to be eaten by cockroaches.