Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor, Posts | Tags: anxiety, apocalypse, comedy, humor, plague, survivor, UFOs
These days there is a lot of fear mongering, talk of anarchy and threats of various apocalypse scenarios. If you believe the social media “preppers,” the apocalypse is coming in the form of World War Three, a plague, or UFOs.
Or maybe the world is eventually going to be underwater.
Well, if any of those scenarios are on the horizon, I can rest easy because I’m not a survivor. Nor do I want to be.
I’ve seen enough Thunderdome movies to know that I wouldn’t make it past the first week.
Here are things I do NOT bring to the table:
Weapons or the skills to use them. I’m pretty sure my throwing axes will only protect me if my attacker is 10 feet away and standing still.
Medical knowledge or herb lore. Despite the fact that my family jokingly calls me “Dr. Libby,” I’m really just a fast Googler. As for the herb lore, if it’s a nuclear attack, you can’t eat what would be left. If we’re floating around an endless ocean because of climate change, seaweed will only do you so much good. That’s pretty much the extent of my ocean flora knowledge.
Mechanical ability. I can barely work a screwdriver, and IKEA instructions make me break out in hives. So no, I won’t be the person who’s fixing machines, jumping car batteries or siphoning gas to save the day.
Procreation. My body is no longer equipped to produce offspring, much less offspring that would adapt to a post-apocalyptic new world. I’m pretty much a post-apocalyptic recessive gene.
Here’s what I DO bring to the apocalypse:
Humor. If you can’t laugh at the situation, you’ll cry. So maybe I can keep some people from falling apart by making snarky observations. I’ll eventually become a court jester.
Documentation. I can write down what happened and how people survived. I’m told I’m good with dialogue when I write fiction. I will explain the weird lines on our (underwater) roads and strange phrases future archeologists uncover, like “Let’s Go Brandon” and “what’s your Roman Empire.”
Medical Assistant (certain conditions only). When it comes to radiation poisoning, I’m your girl. People throwing up doesn’t bother me at all. But, if there’s an attack with a respiratory component, I’m out. Snot makes me dry heave.
Medicinal Alcohol. My house could be a temporary source of medicinal antiseptic and anesthesia, given our current supply of bourbon. Until those supplies run out, we can all figure out how to make moonshine from ash, instead of actual crops.
Realistically, by the time the apocalypse happens, us non-survivors will probably already be assigned red Star Trek security shirts so we’ll be easy to identify. That way, others won’t waste time trying to save us when they could be building a desalinization machine out of seashells.
So if you’re a McGyver, a Mike Rowe from Dirty Jobs, or someone who knows how to operate multiple vehicles, more power to you. You go all Thunderdome out there and keep the human race going. I’ll see you on the other side, wearing my shiny red sweater.
Filed under: Exercise, Middle Age, Misc. Humor, Travel | Tags: Exercise, fitness, games, islands, jeff probst, lying, pop culture, reality television, relaity tv, relationships, sports, survivor, television, travel
I don’t know what it is about Americans in particular, but we seem to like watching TV shows that make sporting events out of activities other people do in their daily life. Off the top of my head, Survivor and American Ninja Warrior come to mind. American Ninja Warrior takes the obstacle courses military organizations used to use for training and makes it into a giant, high-tech jungle gym for middle-class gym rats. Americans play Survivor on islands where people actually scratch out a living every day – not just for 40 days and then are flown back to their AC and Netflix.
And I love both of those shows.
We still watch Survivor. I hate the people, and it makes me mad, but it’s a train wreck each season, and there’s been 38 seasons. It seems I’m compelled to watch adults relive 8th grade by lying, backstabbing, deciding as a group who’s undesirable, and seeking revenge later on as an outsider.
I like Survivor because it has contestants that can do all the things I can’t in prolonged, difficult social situations. Here are 9 reasons why I would never win survivor:
- Starting Fires: If I don’t have Fatwood from Plow and Hearth or a stack of old newspapers, I’m pretty useless. (Voted Off – Day 2)
- Food-shut downs, or “The Hangry’s:” Based on people’s reactions to my food shut-downs, I’m pretty sure I would be voted off in the first three days. Apparently, I become unreasonable and just a bit bitchy. They would probably require my one item I could bring to be a Snickers. There is no way I would voluntarily eat sugar-free food (i.e. rice) for 40 days straight without being one of those contestants that gets all listless and weepy (Voted Off – Day 3).
- Hot flashes in the Jungle: I always feel superior as I watch these skeletal twenty-somethings running around wearing teeny-weeny bikinis in the heat and humidity of whatever island they’re dropped on. I dare them to try that with a muffin top while having hot flashes. (Voted Off – Day 4)
- Compete without injury: I’ve got bad shoulders, bad hips and I throw like a chimp. Not exactly your desired anchor man in most competitions. That said, you need some swimming done? I’m your girl. (Voted Off – Day 6)
- Solve puzzles: Can’t. Never could. See this?
I’ve never been able to do it. Or this? 
I took those apart or smashed them, depending on my mood. I could proibably hide that deficit for a few days, but not the whole time. (Voted Off – Week 2) - Sunburn: I have an appointment this month to get more pieces of my face taken off (again). I’m pretty sure living on an island for month without sunscreen would hammer that last nail in my peaches-and-cream coffin. (Voted Off – Week 2)
- Think logically when tired: Let me put it this way – people at work know not to
give me anything after 3:00pm because my brain is tired. I’m pretty sure logical, chess-like thinking is not going to be my strong-suit after being sleep and sugar deprived. Also, I still can’t figure out how to put on one of those bra things that makes your straps into a racerback. (Voted Off – Week 3) - Maintaining the Lies: One time in the airport I was looking disapprovingly at a girl with a tramp stamp and a thong hanging way above her pants as she tied her shoe; two men were staring at me and laughing at my expression, not even paying attention to the thong. Apparently, my face does not hide my feelings as well as I thought. (Voted Off – Pick Any Day I Look At People)
- Razors: Seriously, people and after 40 days, people would run away from the Sasquatch that I have become. And the guys who wax their chests on the show? One of my favorite things ever is to watch it slowly grow back in on each episode. (Voted Off – Day 39)
So sorry, Jeff Probst. I’m only fodder for the first episode, where they winnow out the sick and old, like lions culling the weak water buffalo from the herd. But American Ninja Warrior – that’s another story. I’m going to get Hubby to build a Warp Wall so we can start practicing.
Subourbon Mom 