May 1, 2014

red pills behind the sofa cushions (procatalepsis, 4)

Readying oneself for the fall of an empire is no easy feat, particularly when you’re surrounded by the constant told-you-sos of strung out ex-agency beets (who weren’t nearly as paranoid as I’d once thought them to be) and a Sea Monkey King who it turns out was correct when he told us that he could do a better job of running the US government than “some Manchurian douche who fluffs Weathermen.”  Although in fairness, the bar hasn’t been set too high.  Meaning that, had the free-thinking citizens of the United States elected an arrogant Sea Monkey King instead of an arrogant adept of terrorist chic as their president, they’d probably be better off today — even if said arrogant Sea Monkey King, as per his tentative platform, did nothing but down highballs, bang pricey hookers, and play poker with some of his brine shrimp Court, leaving orders that he was “never to be disturbed unless some punk ass country or some band of medieval ululators started some shit.  In which case, knock first.

Regardless, we are where we are, and as a public service of sorts, I’m going to let you all in on a little secret:  when prepping for the apocalypse, it’s easy enough to stock up on freeze-dried food, bottled water, and even a healthy supply of batteries.  But trying to keep alcohol stored away?   Well,  you’d better hope that you’re not saddled with the bunch that I’m going to have to go to war alongside of.  Because without a doubt, these guys would go to the mattresses for your last swig of Nyquil, or even some fermenting compost if they thought they could wring a shot glass full of something out of it.

– Which wouldn’t be a bad thing, necessarily — I mean, I like the pluck, don’t get me wrong; it’s just that they’re typically so hammered when they get to that point that invariably someone gets dead from friendly fire, usually in the form of a spring-loaded crossbow arrowhead.  And pulling one of those things out of some hapless, half-naked call girl, then getting her stuffed into a trunk so you can dump her into a remote pond, is no picnic I can assure you.

Hypothetically, of course.

Posted by Jeff G. @ 9:01pm
29 comments | Trackback

Comments (29)

  1. I find that loading them into the baggage compartment of a cross-country Greyhound might be tricky but the drivers are reliably forgetful…

    Hypothetically.

  2. “Readying oneself for the fall apocolocyntosis of an empire is no easy feat, . . . .”

    I figure that’s only fair, what with you making me look up procatalepsis like that.

  3. And you know damn well you don’t pull, you push the arrowhead all the way through.

  4. Damnit. That’s why it was so messy!

    Hypothetically.

  5. this is why the powdered alcohol is so so important

    it is truly an age of wonders

  6. I dunno, I think the kind of marauders Jeff is talking about would probably just snort the stuff. And that can’t be good.

  7. I thought the Sea Monkey King is veep now.

  8. That was a thing of beauty. I don’t know which I prefer – “some Manchurian douche who fluffs Weathermen.” or “band of medieval ululators started some shit”. Because both are awesome in that precise language way that conjures up a picture. And made me bust out laughing.

    I happen to know there’s no money in my sofa cushion crevasses so I never look there.

  9. Believe it or not, this site used to be mostly that way. I missed this series. It needed to be dragged from the mothballs and burnished in time for the collapse. That’s how we do, as the kids say.

    Just now, looking back, I can’t believe the thing is almost a decade old. Just shy of the age of my oldest.

  10. I have never killed a hooker yet. I spilled some soup on one though. It let that bowl got away from me. I own that.

    But I thought, the tears and anger were a little bit over-wrought given that it was gazpacho. And the stain came out with a little Shout(TM).

    That hooker unfortunately died trying to hold up a Boston Market, the most heavily armed fast food franchise in the US. And when I say unfortunately that’s a bit of a pose. I think people who try use a deadly weapon to rob a chain restaurant deserve whatever happens to them. If she’d stuck to stealing food from Golden Corral she’d be alive today. And she’d have forgotten what real chicken legs are supposed to taste like. But that’s what the chocolate fountain is for, no?

  11. Aww shit.

    It let that bowl got away from me. -> I let that bowl get away from me.

  12. I only target skater kids for violence. You can’t be a skater kid without something oppressing you and driving you to gleam the cube waxing hot ollies on the quarter-pipe, or whatever. That’s just the world man.

  13. How many magazines per second are there in a crossbow clip anyway? I’m not a gun scientist.

  14. McGehee says May 1, 2014 at 10:49 pm I thought the Sea Monkey King is veep now.

    I thought Space Ghost killed him.

    (“BANJO! BANJOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”)

  15. …and that flashback to Space Ghost: Coast to Coast made me realize something.

    The Sea Monkey King is not VP. Brak is VP.

  16. Classic old school Goldstein gold… I miss those days for a million reasons.

  17. Where have you gone, pea coat dolphin?
    Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you.

    Woo woo woo.

    (Elizabeth Warren can kiss my ass.)

  18. There was a rumor a couple of weeks ago that dolphins were assembling in Ukraine to support the nascent democracy there. Just rumors though.

  19. Putin won’t know what hit him.

  20. Femen will though.

  21. I’d rather have a prebuttal in front of me than…

    No, wait, that’s a bottle.

    brb

  22. Why has Rep. Brett Hulsey decided to provoke someone to make Brett Hulsey a martyr? Simple. Because he celebrates the old-time religion: progressivism. Or bigotry. Pick’em.

    But hey! Hoods recalls another interview!

  23. And pulling one of those things out of some hapless, half-naked call girl, then getting her stuffed into a trunk so you can dump her into a remote pond, is no picnic I can assure you.

    Depends on the trunk.

  24. How many magazines per second are there in a crossbow clip anyway? I’m not a gun scientist.

    Not sure, but if you put a bayonet on it, you can turn it into a spear, which I gather is kind of like an arrow you don’t shoot. So, you know, assault-y and twice as dangerous.

  25. If you can’t shoot it it’s not dangerous, Q.E.D.

  26. And pulling one of those things out of some hapless, half-naked call girl, then getting her stuffed into a trunk so you can dump her into a remote pond, is no picnic I can assure you.

    That’s when you find out who your friends are.

  27. This is one of those times when I wish I had discovered Protein Wisdom a lot earlier than I did.

  28. What the ? Look at you little skater kids. You ain’t got scars all over ya or or no pins in your leg bones! How can ya be skater kids if ye haven’t got scars all overrrrr ye?

    HERE’S YO CONCRETE ED JUH CAY SHUN
    HERE’S YO PLANT AND BAIL ROUTINE
    NO SHREDDIN’ FORE YOU PAY THE PAVEMENT
    HEY TONY!

    THESE KIDZ AIN’T BOUNCED ENOUGH!

    ALL IN ALL THE NEED A-
    NOTHER CHANCE
    FOR A RAW MEAT FALL.

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