Why I’ll Survive The Zombie Apocalypse

  1.  Because I’ve thought about it.  Like, a lot.  I try to convince myself it’s research for a book I’ll write one day, but the truth is, I’m just a zombie nerd.  Like a huge nerd.  I own a movie called “Special Dead.”  It’s about zombies invading a camp for special needs people.  I’ve watched it.  It’s still in my collection.  But, if it ever happens, I’ve got a plan.  And because I love you guys so much, I’ll share a bit of it with you.
  2.  I’ve already said goodbye to my dog.  Don’t get me wrong.  She’s a fine dog.  Not a great dog, but a fine dog.  I’ve seen too many movies where some dipshit gets killed trying to save their dog.  That won’t be me.  I’ve even told my wife.  Zombie apocalypse = no dog.  Besides, even though my dog is a decent dog, she’s also a moron.  In the zombie apocalypse, it’ll be crucial to be able to hide from zombies, and other people.  And my dog can’t shut up long enough for that to be an option.  Hell, she barks at me when I’m mowing the grass.  I won’t have her blowing my cover.  So when it begins, I’ll take her outside and let her go.  She’s on her own.
  3.  I’m going to the beach, bitches!  Or more accurately, to Norfolk, Virginia.  By boat.  I’ll head to the nearest port, steal a boat, and head to Norfolk.  See, the Navy should be fine.  They are physically cut off from the apocalypse, and Norfolk is a huge Navy base.  I figure the fleet will head there first, and I’ll be waiting for rescue.
  4.  I know my limits.  For example, if the Navy doesn’t show, I’ll take my new boat and head to the tropics.  I’m no farmer.  I don’t know how to can or jar shit, so I need to live somewhere it’s warm all the time so the plants are always bearing fruit.
  5.  I live in America.  No, no.  Don’t get wrong.  This isn’t some “rah-rah America’s the best!” ideology.  It’s simple facts.  There are a ridiculous number of guns here, making it very easy to defend myself from zombies and mean people.  Also, the obesity problem here will come in very handy.  Zombies aren’t particularly agile creatures.  Morbidly obese zombies should be no problem to avoid.  Win-win.  America!  Fuck yeah!
  6. I’m not a moron.  I love The Walking Dead.  I really do.  But those people are all morons.  Why do they all drive pieces of shit?  That junk RV they drive everywhere?  Go get a brand new one, you idiots.  It won’t break down on you all the damn time.  All their cars are crap.  Go steal a good one, for God’s sake!  That boat I mentioned in number 3 above?  It’s going to be a nice one.  A new one.  I’m not going to bother stealing someone’s ten-year-old pontoon boat.  I’m in it for the good stuff.
  7.  I’m an introvert.  See, a lot of humans need socialization and company and can’t handle solitude.  Please.  Not having to talk to someone for days on end sound like a fucking dream vacation.  I hate people.  Which brings me to number 8.
  8.  I hate people.  But I love my family.  Which means I’ll have precisely zero problem taking out some stranger who’s threatening the survival of me and mine.  Again, too many movies where someone dies because they’re having some moral dilemma or some shit.  I do not foresee that being an issue.

That being said, I will in fact, not survive the zombie apocalypse.  And here’s why:

  1.  As I mentioned, I’m a zombie nerd.  Big time.  As a result, not only will I not survive the apocalypse, I’ll be one of the first to die.  And I’ll tell you exactly how.  When I see a small pack of zombies ambling down the street, the first thing I would do is assume it’s some great cosplayers.  I’ll hand my wife my phone and tell her to take picture.  Then, I’ll run over and put my arms around a couple of the zombies.  They, of course, will eat me.  And there’ll be photographic evidence of it.
  2.  I am blind as a bat.  Seriously.  So, if I’m wearing my contacts, I’ll have to make a special trip to my house to get my glasses.  (I told you I’ve thought about this way too much.)  Special trips increase the likelihood of my demise.  Even if I am wearing my glasses, they won’t stay on very well in combat situations and as soon as I lose/break my glasses, I’m screwed.  I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a zombie and a crepe myrtle.
  3. Camping is not my bag.  And by “Not my bag,” I mean I can’t do it.  Starting a fire without a lighter and store bought fire log.  Unlikely at best.  Sleeping on the ground?  Nope.  Here’s the problem with that.  I currently have a “Sleep Number” bed.  It is the only bed I can sleep in and be able to move in the morning.  So if I have to sleep on the ground, or hell, even someone else’s bed, I’m screwed.  I’d be physically unable to fight off zombies unless they were willing to give me an hour or two to warm up and stretch.
  4. I live in America.  We got guns!  Galore!  So even if I survive all of the above (and I won’t), I’ll definitely get shot by some idiot who thinks I’m a zombie shuffling down the street, when in reality I’ve just lost my glasses and my back is killing me from sleeping in a Ramada Inn.
  5. I hate people.  Strangers in particular.  I really, really do.  It’s going to be damn near impossible for me team up with group of people for the sake of survival.  I’ll eye-roll and “Jesus Christ” my way out of the group in under a week.