First and foremost, you should know that I am super bummed out right now. I don't want to talk about it. Soon, maybe. But right now I'm still going through the post-"life handed you a pile of crap" rituals. Yes, rituals. I totally believe in them. Like, cake for instance. You didn't get the job you really wanted? Someone break into your car and steal your Night Ranger CD? Well, sweetie pie, then you get cake. For a whole week. And you get to watch really stupid TV and you don't have feel bad about it. Because you've EARNED it.
I've totally earned my cake. I can say that without any hesitation.
But, anyway, what I really want to talk about is the zombie apocalypse. Yes, yes, I've been watching way too much The Walking Dead. I can't help it. I'm not saying it's the bestest show in the history of forever, but it's got zombies. And this guy:
But, funny thing about The Walking Dead. Despite it taking place in a very post apocalyptic world, highlights and precisions cuts seem to still be readily available. And J. Crew still delivers. But I won't fool myself into thinking we'd be THAT lucky. No, I'm quite sure if the zombie-shit hit the fan, my hairdresser* and UPS man would be the first to try and eat my face off.
So now I'm totally freaked out. Not just because of the shambling hoards of the undead outside my front door, but now I'm worried I'm going to look like a total hag while I'm stabbing them in the brain with the Emeril Lagasse knife set I looted from the Home Goods up the street because I can't find the ax in the garage (note to hubby: we should clean the garage sometime this century. Ya know, just in case).
This brought me to the realization that I really need to have a zombie apocalypse plan of action. First on the list, find the ax. Second, find my tweezers. This will lessen the risk of hag-ification. I may not be able to have my highlights and lowlights, but I can at least have manicured, non prehistoric eyebrows. Third, find this guy:
Ah, yes, there he is again. This time with dead squirrels. Aside from the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, I'd say Daryl Dixon is my only chance at survival in a zombie apocalypse. Plus, he's a total MILWASICMHSCT (Man I'd Like to Write About So I Can Make Him Say Clever Things). And he carries a crossbow. I'd look super cool next to him with my ax (if I can find it) and Emeril knife set. I'd tell him jokes and he'd find me charming. Or I'd annoy the crap out of him and he'd put an arrow in my head. Which would totally mess up my non-highlighted hair.
Hmmmm...what kind of shoes do you wear when you have an arrow in your head?
Oooh, which leads me to....
Fourth, have edgy post apocalyptic wardrobe clean and ready at all times. Something like this:
Just, minus the guns. And the straps going through the legs. They work on Milla. Then again. ANYTHING works on Milla. You could staple a foot to her face and she'd still be stunning.
And fifth, find this:
No, I won't share. Not even with Daryl. Sorry.
What's your zombie apocalypse plan of action?
*Sorry, Melissa, you're awesome, but if you go all undead on me, I will totally jam a flat iron into your brain.
Okay, I just got word from Melissa that a) I should jam scissors into her brain instead of a flat iron, and b) she's not going to turn into a zombie anyway since she's totally armed with sharp objects at all times. So, she's joining Team Daryl Dixon & Vivi with the ax (maybe) and Emeril knife set. We'll fight hoards of undead and have awesome hair at the same time. My worries are over. Bring on the virus.