Monday, March 11, 2013

A cabin of my post-apocalyptic dreams.

Last weekend felt like fucking 12 degrees here and we have this white shit coming from the sky... I'm scared.  Is it nuclear ash? Is that what they mean by winter?  WHAT IS THIS ARE WE GOING TO DIE?!

This weekend it was 70 degrees and there's this big ball of hot yellow in the sky... I'm scared.  Is the atmosphere exploding? Is this what they mean by winter? WHAT IS THIS ARE WE GOING TO DIE?

*grabs Charlemagne, box of wine and mixed CD of early '90s R & B jamz and heads to bathtub to await planetary destruction*

If we are slowly approaching a post-apocalyptic new world order or maybe just... Spring, I'd really enjoy to spend it somewhere nice.

With some sweet music.


Like a rustic cabin that looks abandoned but deceptively cost 7 jizzillion francs.  Possibly in Switzerland like where these are.  But I'm not picky, I already live near the mountains which is another climate zone completely.  (Hillbilly weather)

I like how the windows are boarded up but really artistically swank-like to keep out possible zombies and rogue bands of traveling survivors ready to steal your hoard of tampons and beef jerky.  

Seriously, you know you'd kill for feminine hygiene products after the apocalypse.

Or CDs.  

I'd probably want a mixed CD of early '90s jamz I saved from my former life because you're going to have to repopulate the earth with the leftover Doomsday Preppers people and they can't all be hot.  You're gonna need some help to set the mood because that can of Spam ain't working.

Unless you like Spam... I don't know your (post-apocalyptic) life.



I'd probably be asked to repopulate the earth with one of those guys that breathes really heavily through his mouth even when just sitting down and always seems to have bloody cuticles. 

I will definitely need the smooth stylings of Keith Sweat and friends (and perhaps some mittens for him) to make this thing happen.

For the future of our peoples.


I think I'd be more fertile if things were to happen in this kitchen.  


Definitely in front of that fireplace.  I would produce really smart babies - doctors, metalsmiths, people who can tell the poisonous trees from the not poisonous trees - all professions you'd need in a new world if you treat my ovaries sweetly with a modern rustic lodge full of great MCM furniture.  It's a scientific fact.


Also a scientific fact is that exposed lumber and beautiful views will probably get you a quiverfull of lumberjacks for Jeezus.  

My womb is glorious and takes requests.

All images from Marie Claire Maison and probably a year old but don't judge.
Much like my former life of making mix CDs for my friends.

Obviously my children (of the New Earth) will have great taste in music AND architecture.

8 comments:

  1. Well, I don't want your womb or any more babies, but those cabins look fun.

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    1. I don't want any babies but I might make a sacrifice to be the Eve of the new world. Just sayin...

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  2. fun until I spotted that measle-ey looking kitchen...

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    1. I love that kitchen so hard! Good thing it's me stuck in this cabin until I die. ; )

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  3. "people who can tell the poisonous trees from the not poisonous trees" That would be botanists, sweetheart.

    And anyway, in any post-apocalyptic time, you make your enemies into "friends" and use them to test the produce...

    Bianca

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    1. Hey, poisonous tree skillz aren't limited to those with degrees!

      And you are very smart about 'testing the produce.' I would like to have you as a friend in the apocalypse. (But like a real one... not a frenemy...)

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  4. Thanks for the bloody cuticles imagery. That is now my biggest postapocalyptic fear -- what will my "repopulate the world" mate look like?!!

    Oh wait, my two-year-old will kill and eat everyone with gleeful abandon so all I need to worry about is how to season survivor stew. We'll just sit on the porch with our shotguns and our knitting while she brings us human carcasses of those who trespassed. It'll be like when your cat leaves you a line of dead mice as a love token. Whew. Better start putting that cookbook together now...

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    1. Seriously, what is WITH the bloody cuticle dudes? Get your hands out of your mouth, us some lotion and get a bandaid for chrissakes!

      They bring you dead things because they love you!

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