Because I am obviously a supreme redneck with a desire to do a whole helluvalotta murder, and such, I decided last year that I wanted to get a conceal and carry permit. I PACK HEAT. Sometimes. Not every time, but sometimes. I just want to make sure that I am ready for the zombie apocalypse. Not that anybody would be checking permits, with zombies running around eating faces. But it's the principle which is important, I think.
Actually, the most disappointing thing to me about religion (mine, and others) is that there really isn't any doctrinal back up for an eminent zombie apocalypse. Sigh.
I found this on a friend's blog, and include it due to the relevancy and, I think, cultural importance:
I think this is something that everyone should really think about, because I mean, WHAT IF?
To my left: a shelf full of fantasy novels. While they may provide a lot of useful insight into how best one may fight in a rudimentary, medieval-esque fashion, (including varying weapon styles, spells, and witchery), as weapons themselves, they may prove to be somewhat wanting in efficacy. It would take an assload of books and a real firm commitment to the task, to beat a zombie's brains in with paper backs.
Today, for the second time in a year, I found myself doing fingerprints for a back ground check. Whereas last time, it was in preparation for the zombie apocalypse, today it was to be able to start student teaching. Which I think may end up being scarier than said apocalypse.
They do this FBI background check to make sure I'm not a pedophile, or a terrorist, or whatever. The really cool thing is, this background check/fingerprinting cost 85 bucks. And I had it done one year ago. And for whatever reason, the State can't collaborate with itself, and have a look at the previous check, even though they are good for 3 years. And done in the same place, by the same agency. Good job, government. Can we please make you bigger and in charge of more shit?
While I was waiting forever for like, 2 other people to get printed (excellent government efficiency at work), an older gentleman who seemed to have lost the sleeves to his shirt somewhere had approached the help window. I started paying attention to the conversation when he said this: "I ain't never had no possession of drugs. I just wanna get it off my record, cuz I wanna get a firearm."
"Cool," I thought. Me and that guy. We will obviously be ready. If, of course, he can get that pesky possession expunged from his record. 15 minutes, and 85 dollars later, I left that place in full confidence that a.) I was probably going to pass the background check, b.) I was justified in being annoyed about the incompetence of our government, and c.) that the woman at the help desk was going to do everything in her power to get that sleeveless man a gun.
1 step closer to teacherhood, and 2 steps closer to preventing zombie domination. Successful day? I think so.
What is to your left?