Archive for the ‘Classification of Life’ Category

With the threat of an influenza-spawned apocalypse bearing down on the world, many people have questions on how to survive the destruction and chaos that may ensue. As of today,  the most likely candidate of this biblical sociological unraveling is the Swine Flu. More specifically, the H1Z1 strain that one of my esteemed colleagues mentioned nearly a week ago. As you know, the virus kills one in the same manner as the H1N1 (Swine Flu). The major difference is the virus’ uncanny ability to restart the deceased’s heart and re-animate their body and mind for roughly two hours. Upon this makeshift resurrection, the “person” will retain most of their motor skills and very limited brain capacity. If that isn’t enough, the revived have violent and uncontrollable tendancies, namely attacking the living. These creatures are the closest thing you are ever going to get to being, that’s right, a ZOMBIE.

Now, if you are like most people, the thought of having undead cannibals as neighbors may not sound appealing. If that is the case, then you are probably going to want to get the fuck away from these flesh-feasting faggots as soon as fucking possible. Great idea!  But I know what you’re thinking, “I’m just an investment banker. What do I know about surviving hell on Earth?” Well, you know approximately jack shit. So sit down, grab a pad and a pen and…. actually just print this out before the power is cut, and drink from the cup of knowledge.

Before anyone goes guns a blazin’ into the night fleeing their unpleasant demise via mastication, it is priority #1 to actually have somewhere to arrive upon the completion of aforementioned retreat. The Ministry has already designated a spot that is perfect in every way to survive the onslaught, I suggest you do like wise. For features to look for in an outpost such as ours, consult The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks. I have some tips of my own, but this post is about a safe pilgrimage to said location.

Going with worst case scenario, let us say that you, the reader, live in a heavily populated city like New York or Chicago. There are bound to be hundreds of thousands of zombies roaming the buffet formerly known as your street. Now owning a car may sound like an advantage, but dont blow your load just yet. The streets will surely be parking lots by the time you realize your ass is on the menu. Grab your bike and necessary supplies and hit the streets like you did when you were twelve. This may sound ridiculous, but no street will be clear, no taxi’s will be running and you can bet your Huffy that the subway will be shut down. A bike is light, can be carried if necessary and has a speed that is far superior to your undead enemies clumsy, foot-dragging pace. Don’t have a bike? Not to worry. Plenty will be readily available when their riders ditch and make an uninformed decision to take a cab to the airport. Either that or they’re already zombie shit somewhere on the East side of town.

Now, once out of the city, you may have highways with clear lanes and may have also accumulated a gang of survivors. It is time to get a serious set of wheels. These, like your possibly stolen bike, will also be readily available after their owners have met similar fates as the cyclists back in town. You need a vehicle that would strike fear into the hearts of the undead (if they could feel fear). Something that says “Bend over mother fuckers, here it comes!” The most bad-ass ride imaginable. Something to store all your shit, haul ass, double as a base-camp, make you look like the road warrior from hell and be fully customizable for weapons of mass zombietinction. What you need is…. a mini-van. That’s right, I fucking said it. The mini-van is easily found anywhere there are or were people. Most have cargo room for gear and at least three passengers not including the driver. They ride smooth and are also Eco-friendly ( not that really fucking matters anymore).

The design plans of the Ministry’s BERSERKER escape van are classified for Ministry security purposes, but I have included a photo to quench your thirst.

As you may have noticed, it is bad-ass to the extreme and then some. Make your vehicle similar. Make sure to have armor plating, bullet- proof glass, short wave radio equipment, spare tires (at least two), a way to store food, water and the rest of your survival gear, the ability to store at least twenty extra gallons of gas, a fondue fountain, a howitzer or belt-fed .50 caliber machine gun turret, a DVD/CD player with flip-out screen and 7.1 Dolby digital surround (AM/FM optional), a microwave, your favorite pair of pajamas, a ramming system for the front and of course, a sun roof. Finding materials and the means to secure to your van are bit hard to come by in a post zompocalyptic world, but a grow set and find a way to do so. You must survive to rid the world of it s new occupants and rebuild when all is said and done.

I know yet again what some of you are thinking. ” I don’t see many the weapons and features listed above on the BERSERKER.” Its called camouflage and optical illusions bitches. Learn both and all the more better your chances will be. Notice also the absence of a Ministry logo or the title BERSERKER. This is to avoid being easily recognized by devout followers who will only impede the swift success of our journey, I suggest you follow suit.  The formation of tag-a-longs is not only annoying as piss, but also very dangerous.


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F*** IT!!!!


Have you ever had one of those days where everything just goes completely wrong and you think, “Why Me?” Well rest assured you are not the only one. F*** My Life is a wonderful website devoted to the very realistic idea that life, essentially, is not perfect and we are not alone in our f*** ups. Here are some excerpts from the site:

Today, my wife told me that she wanted a divorce. It is also my 39th birthday today. For my birthday present, she gave me a subscription to match.com. FML

Today, at work, I was alone in the breakroom when I got a slight pain in my belly. I thought I needed to pass gas, so I tried since no one else was in there. It wasn’t gas. It was diarrhea. I’m wearing a mini skirt today. FML

Today, I was having sex with my wife when my 14 year old daughter from her room texts me, “Stop.” FML

Visit the site here! / Follow them on Twitter!

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