Be Ready When the Sh*t Goes Down( A Survival Guide to the Apocalypse)

by Griffin, Forrest

  After about twenty seconds fighting to free my legs from my mother’s death grip, I realized that I would soon pass out. Not knowing what to do, I kicked my mother as hard as I could in her chest and face. As you would expect, this caused her to release her hold, allowing me to follow through with my initial game plan. I slide out of the boat, pulled myself out from under the raft, and then hopped back into the boat. At the time, I did not even care that I had come close to death. The only thing that I cared about was the fact that everyone on the boat was now staring at me with open mouths.

  I was exhausted and totally out of breath, but since I had daddy issues, I didn’t want to look like a jackass in front of the guy who had given me some authority (yeah, I could have been a stripper), so I breathed slowly out of my nose and pretended that I was looking around at the scenery. A few seconds later, I grabbed my paddle and focused my gaze downstream. I should have probably checked on my mother, who had just received a mule kick to the chest and face, but I figured she was probably okay because she had a life vest on. To this day, neither one of us have every brought the subject up. It was akin to farting during sex in that you and your partner just move on and pretend that it never happened. In any case, the moral of the story is that the wild will try to fucking kill you any chance it gets, and I fucking hate it.

  Grids

  It is important to remember that your map is just one part of a much larger map—the world! To see how much area your map encompasses, you want to visit the scale at the bottom of the page. If your goal in having a map is survival, as it should be, you will usually want one that is 1:24,000. This means that every one inch on the map represents two thousand feet of actual land. Knowing this, you can measure how many inches you have to go on your map, and know how many feet you have left to reach your target area on land. For a carry-along measuring tool, you should now measure your penis and convert it to feet using the scale above. Once this is accomplished, all you will need to do is place your johnson on the map to know exactly how far you have to travel to reach your destination. Even if your pecker can only be used to measure six-thousand-foot increments, it may not be as useless as your past girlfriends have told you.

  POSTAPOCALYPTIC DIET-AND-EXERCISE PROGRAM

  The human digestive system is not designed to handle processed foods and large amounts of sugar. It is not designed to handle foods that are vitamin fortified, a practice that only began about seventy years ago. If you want to be healthy during the apocalypse, you should eat the same foods our distant ancestors ate, such as nuts, twigs, and berries. It is also extremely important to eat for your body type . . . No, no, fucking no!

  If you plan on trying to maintain your specialized, trendy diet in a postapocalyptic world, you are a filthy mouth-breather and will most likely die a horrible death, which is fine because you deserve it. Eat whatever you can find that isn’t rotten or spoiled. Eat untreated shoe leather if that is what you have on hand. The human body will adapt. Don’t baby your body; it wants to live. It will take whatever calories you give it and turn them into energy. Remember, no one cares if you are ripped when you are fucking dead. If you are thinking, “How will I maintain my daily workout regimen without proper meals?” then you are an even greater idiot. The postapocalyptic exercise program will consist of RUNNING FOR YOUR FUCKING LIFE from syphilis zombies, as well as building shelters and hunting. Basically, staying alive will be all the workout you need. I swear, every time I talk to you it is like I am dealing with my brother’s kids!

  The Apocalyptic Standard Body Mass Index Chart

  Frail: You are weak and fragile. Although you are considered attractive in our current society, after the apocalypse, a large bird or gust of wind will most likely carry you away. Note: Postapocalypse, vomiting up food will be punishable by decapitation and being cooked on a spit.

  Skinny: You are thin and quick. Although you will probably have no trouble running from lunatics, you most likely have a fast metabolism. Your survival will depend on your ability to eat every few hours. May I recommend shoe leather? .

  Athletic: You are strong and fit. As you can tell, this drawing was made in my current likeness. If you resemble me, you have an excellent chance of surviving any type of natural disaster. Trust me, we’ll be just fine. .

  Fat: You are one of the jolly folk. If you somehow survive the initial shit storm, your long-term survival will depend upon your body type. As we have all learned from the UFC, there are certain fat guys who are extremely athletic and agile. If you are this type of fat, you might actually have a leg up on those who are athletic because you can survive on your man tits and the medicine ball you call a stomach for a good deal of time. However, if you are the type of fat guy who has trouble getting out of his chair, you most likely won’t last a week. But seriously, if you’re that kind of fat, do you really want to survive in a world without Cheetos? .

  Morbidly Obese: You are morbidly obese. You have to pay for sex and most likely cannot see your genitals, so what is the point in surviving the apocalypse? Might as well end things now before getting licked to death by your fifteen cats. .

  HUNTING

  Hunting will be a pretty big deal after the apocalypse, but despite how manly I come across, I am not an avid or expert hunter. I’ve only been hunting three times, and on two of those occasions absolutely nothing happened. I just sat around in the woods, bored as shit. The only time something eventful happened was when I was twelve. My stepfather Abe took me out into the woods to train me to be a man, and I pretended the best I could that I really wanted to shoot me a deer. When a deer did in fact cross our path, my hand remained frozen and my stepfather put that beautiful creature down.

  Once the life had drained out of this magnificent creature, we dragged it back to the car. Yes, that’s right, I said car. My stepfather did not own a truck—he owned a Lincoln Continental. The two of us spent the next half an hour stuffing a giant, bloody deer corpse into the trunk. When we were finished, did I look like a shell-shocked kid who had watched his parents be murdered while he hid under the bed? Yes, I most certainly did. To make matters worse, we took the deer home and my stepfather proceeded to skin and gut it. My job was to clean up afterward. So, as you would guess, the only knowledge I took away from the whole situation was how to fit a very large body into the trunk of a car and clean up a bunch of blood and guts. This would have been very useful if I had turned out to be a mafia hitman (which might actually have happened when looking at the trauma I went through that day).

  The only living thing that I ever shot was a duck, and even that disturbed me greatly. We were out in the marshlands, and I shot one out of the sky. Immediately the dog took off after it, and I was paranoid as hell that it would bring the duck back half alive and I would have to break its neck or something. I mean, imagine how terrible that would be. You get shot, a dog picks you up in its filthy mouth, you get dragged around through the mud, and then dropped at someone’s feet, only to get your fucking neck broken. Horrible. Simply fucking horrible.

  So, as much as I would like to give you advice in the hunting department, you are going to have to get this knowledge elsewhere. I am going to retreat the darkness of the closet and weep to myself for the next half an hour or so . . . Thanks so much for making me bring these painful memories back to the surface.

  THE SCENT OF A WOMAN (HOW TO CATCH A FISH)

  As I mentioned, you don’t want to get picky with your diet. While making the trek to your safe zone, it is important to constantly be on the lookout for anything edible. If you are in the desert and happen to wander by a small creek, hunting for fish is an excellent way to get a decent meal.

  The easiest way to catch a fish is with a fishing pole (you’ve probably noticed by now that I have a tendency to state the obvious). However, the chance that you managed to escape the city with a fishing pole is probably pretty slim. Your first instinct will most likely be to sharpen a stick or try to construct a homemade hook, but if you’re like me, both will lead to
some type of horrible accident where the testicles are torn or stabbed.

  Your safest and most surefire approach is to catch fish with your hands. I know what you’re thinking—“that’s complete bullshit”—but it is completely true. Here is how you do it:

  1. Locate a small creek no more than seven feet in width, and walk its length until you find an area that is stagnant. As a rule of thumb, you want the water to be three or four feet deep.

  2. Remove all your clothes. This might seem silly, but remember, at night all you have keeping you warm is a small fire or a crappy lean-to shelter packed with leaves. If you get your clothes wet, you will most likely freeze. According to my coauthor, Erich, who taught survival school for years, if your clothes do get wet, the best way to stay warm is to perform a specialized method of naked spooning, which he attempted to show me despite our clothes being perfectly dry.

  3. Wade over to the bank of the creek. Due to the eroding forces of water, there will usually be a cavernous region directly underneath the bank. When an invading force is in the water, fish will often retreat to this area and burrow their heads into the walls. Once in their hiding places, instead of bolting when a threat approaches as they do when in open waters, they will generally remain motionless.

  4. Dip a hand into the water and move it very slowly across the wall of the creek underneath the bank. Believe it or not, this can be very nerve-racking, and your first reaction when coming into contact with slimy flesh is to jolt your hand away. Of course, this will cause the fish to quickly vacate, so you must maintain your cool.

  5. There are two methods of capture once you have found a fish. The advanced method is to slide your hand slowly up its body until your fingers are in its gills, apply pressure to trap the fish, and then calmly pull it out of the water. While this is the most surefire method, it requires a very light touch and steady hand. If you’re an amateur, the best approach is to use speed. The instant you touch the fish, jam your hand into its body and pin it up against the wall of the creek. Next, dip your opposite hand in and use both hands to pull it out. However, fish are very, very slimy, and without a firm pinch on their gills, you will most likely lose about 50 percent of your catches.

  6. Once you have a fish, throw it at least ten feet away from the bank to ensure that it won’t flip-flop back into the water.

  7. After catching all you can eat, hold each fish down and kill it by bashing its head with a rock. For the morons out there, I must once again state the obvious: Do not obliterate the fish with a large boulder.

  8. With fish, you can consume everything but the guts. This means the head and the bones. As a matter of fact, the bones are the best part. After slowly roasting them over the fire for half an hour, they taste just like crackers. Shitty-tasting crackers that have the consistency of porcupine, mind you, but still better than bulrushes or cattails, both of which taste like piss.

  9. Throw a tantrum because you can’t catch a fish.

  10. Your tantrum has alerted a starving bear to your presence. Run!

  8 EASY STEPS TO MILKING A COW

  If you don’t come across a creek while fleeing to your safety zone, you are going to have to find an alternate source of food. Raiding convenience stores and supermarkets is a bad plan because all of the other survivors will have the same idea. If someone made it there before you, there is a good chance he or she will be ready to defend their food supply with either weapons or booby traps. A much safer option is to eat off the fat of the land. This is where cows come in.

  Currently, there are more than 1.3 billion cows in the world, and a large percentage of those are in the United States. They are perhaps the stupidest animal in creation and have absolutely no defense mechanisms to speak of (bulls are different, obviously). Basically, a mentally challenged person could go around killing one cow after another with a wooden club—that is how easy they are to hunt. Although cows will be the primary food source for apocalyptic survivors, without our beef being slaughtered and shipped all over the world, the remaining cows will last a long fucking time. Good news for us!

  While it is possible to skin and eat a cow, if your goal is to make it to your safe zone alive, this will most likely take too much time. Milking a cow is a much better option. It is extremely quick and can provide that extra energy you need to make it those last few miles to safety. Below I offer step-by-step instructions on how to steal this precious life-juice from these dumb animals:

  STEP 1: Locate a somewhat attractive cow.

  STEP 2: Sit next to the cow and wash its udders with a warm cloth, much like they do in massage parlors.

  STEP 3: Place a bucket underneath the udders to catch the milk. If you do not have a bucket, simply open your mouth and place your face underneath the udders. This is known as “udder-to-mouth.”

  STEP 4: Begin the milking process by squeezing one of the cow’s teats between your forefinger and thumb. Next, squeeze your other fingers around the teat, forcing the milky goodness to flow. Note: It is okay to whisper sweet nothings into the cow’s ear, as it often gets them in the mooooooood. However, never look up into the cow’s eyes because chances are it will be looking down at you. If your eyes meet, it gets a little awkward. Instead of getting all personal, you want to keep the whole experience very distant, like you would when visiting your friendly neighborhood glory hole.

  STEP 5: Let go of the teat.

  STEP 6: Again squeeze the teat. When it feels soft and flabby, the cow has given you all she’s got to give.

  STEP 7: Throw a tantrum because the cow is not cooperating.

  STEP 8: Your tantrum alerted a bull to your presence. Run!

  MILKING ALTERNATIVES

  Although cows are by far the easiest animals to milk, if you like to live on the wild side or have no other choice, there is a broad assortment of other animals that also produce drinkable milk. Luckily, you can find many of these animals in your local zoo. But before you go charging down there with a bucket and eager lips, it is very important that you realize milking these wild creatures can not only be extremely time-consuming, but also extremely dangerous.

  Great Ape

  Jane Goodall taught us two things about great apes: they can be very violent, but they can also be very nurturing. If you walk up to one in your everyday street clothes and attempt to suckle from its teat, chances are it will tear off your arms, rip your body in half, and then use your torso as a toilet. I mean, if there were such a thing as rape in the animal world, uninvited suckling at the teat would probably be it.

  If you value your life, you must get the ape to offer you her teat. This can be accomplished by dressing up in a monkey outfit and hanging out with the other great ape toddlers. The goal is to make the mother feel utterly sorry for you, so you are going to want to fail at everything monkeylike. For example, keep falling out of the trees, show yourself to be incompetent at peeling bananas properly, hit yourself in the face when you attempt to pound on your chest, and miss every target you aim at with your feces.

  Once you are recognized as the complete loser of the group, the mother will eventually come to you, cradle you in her arms, and put her hairy teat directly into your mouth. The problem is getting away from the mother once she has adopted you. As we have all learned from nature documentaries and the end of Trading Places, ape males are real pricks. They are always huffing, sprinting at trees, and bitch-slapping bushes. They are constantly showing off, and the chicks hate them for it. After she’s fed you, there is a good chance that the female ape will want to mate with you, simply because you are smaller and less violent than a real male ape. Do not try to fight this. Instead, just grin and bear it. The good news is that a man cannot impregnate a female ape because they have incompatible chromosomes. I actually looked that shit up. (I’m sorry about this—I don’t know why they let me write a book, let alone books. Will I ever run out of material? Not if they let me talk about milking apes.)

  Kangaroo

  Kangaroos kick really fucking hard, they have a lon
g, whiplike tail, super-sharp claws, gnarly teeth, and they can run up to forty miles per hour. Needless to say, these attributes make milking one extremely difficult, but not impossible. Every animal has a weakness, and with the kangaroo it is her pouch. Whenever I feel like hanging out in a kangaroo’s pouch, or a Roo-Hammock as I like to call it, I just gather up all the needed items, which include four feet of nylon rope, a Snickers bar, a kerosene lantern, and a roll of duct tape (duct tape works for everything, don’t it?). I would tell you how to use these items to make your entry into the pouch, but that is self-explanatory. Once you are all wrapped up in the warm flesh-blanket, you have direct access to the teat and can suckle away for hours.

  Giraffe

  You would think that a giraffe would be an easy animal to milk because of its height. I mean, it seems like you should just be able to walk underneath one, turn your head up, and begin sucking out milk as if it were coming from a beer bong. As it turns out, giraffes do not like other animals to be directly underneath them, suckling on their teats. Instead of standing there and letting you get your fill, they have a tendency to bolt. I thought it might be possible to kind of run underneath them as they scurried about, breathing out of my nose as I suckled with my mouth, but they are a good deal faster than I imagined. A healthy giraffe can run up to thirty-seven miles per hour!