Category Archives: BQB’s Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

May 19 2016
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BQB's Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

BQB’s Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse – Chapter 1 – Section 3 – Packing a Bug-Out Bag

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When the zombies come for you, they’re not going to care if you aren’t ready for them. This isn’t the prom and these flesh chomping dirt bags aren’t going to park their butts on your sofa and make small talk with your mom while you put the finishing touches on your make-up in the bathroom.

They want your brains and they want them now.

Thus, in the event that it starts looking like your home is about to be overrun with more zombies than you can handle, then you need to be prepared to make a dash in a flash.

Or to put it more succinctly, you need to be ready to “bug out” of your pad and that’s where a bug-out bag comes in.

Only Pack the Essentials

Your baseball card collection. That trophy you got for coming in seventy-seventh place in a foot race with seventy six of your classmates. Your collection of potato chips that bear a striking resemblance to Phyllis Diller.

Be ready to leave all that and more behind, because if you aren’t ready to eat those Diller chips for sustenance, then they’re just bogging you down.

(Phyllis Diller, millenials? No? Crap. Who’s a crusty old funny broad today? I got it. Do you have a collection of potato chips that look like Lisa Lampanelli?  No? Too early 2000’s?  Ok.  Check it out. Do you have a collection of potato chips that look like Chelsea Handler? Yes. The millennials are nodding their heads. I can get out of this terrible joke and move on.)

The zombies are not going to give you a break because you need to grab a few things before you go. And they aren’t going to run slower to compensate for you carrying a bunch of crap that you don’t need.

Zombies are dumb animals who don’t understand concepts like fairness…or kindness…or hygiene.

So if you’re slowly struggling under the weight of bags filled with all the notebooks you used to write love letters to Harry Styles from One Direction, then I guarantee your brains are going to end up with zombie teethmarks in them.
Thus, you must fill your bag with a) life sustaining essentials and b) the sum total weight of which you can carry while you are running away from damn dirty zombies.
The great thing about diversity is that we all are, at the risk of sounding redundant, different. An item that can sustain my life may be of little to no use to you.

So only you know what you can or can’t get along with during the z-poc, but here are some suggestions:

Food and Water

We covered storing food and water a bit in the section on zombie proofing your home. Now we’re talking about packing it. You’ll definitely want a few store bought water bottles in your bag. Prepackaged foods will also be ideal. Granola bars. Some of that nutritional shake mix (something along the lines of Carnation Instant Breakfast, for example) might be good. Of course you’ll have to mix it with water. You won’t have any milk to mix in it unless you manage to kidnap a cow amidst the apocalyptic fallout, which if you do, go you. I applaud your resourcefulness.

Canned food will last awhile, not due to its nutritious value but because it is pumped full of more preservatives than the face of your favorite aging celebrity. Just remember too many cans and you’ll be weighed down. The slower your roll the more likely you’ll end up zombie poop (because a damn zombie will eat and digest you and yes, they do poop.)

Medicine

You’ll definitely want to bring your prescription drugs, though I can’t really recommend just leaving them in a random bag in your house. Drugs can be dangerous so you want to keep all that shit locked up in a safe location, far away from dumb little kids who explore the world by putting as much of it in their mouths as possible. (You parents who are constantly prying random, tiny pieces of floor junk out of your kids’ pie holes know what I’m talking about.)

Plus you want to keep your drugs out of the hands of untrustworthy adults, like your coke head brother-in-law, or your self-medicating hypochondriac buddy who jumps onto various health websites and diagnoses himself with a strange new tropical disease every time he sneezes.

In other words, your pharmaceuticals are for you, period. A medical doctor prescribed them to you based on his assessment of your condition and his judgment based on years of medical training.

So no, don’t leave drugs lying around your house in an unsecured bag. Keep drugs somewhere safe, secure, away from others but remember where you left them in case you need to grab them in a hurry when the zombies come.

As for over the counter stuff, these drugs can also be dangerous if you leave them just lying around in a bag.

Instead, maybe keep a mental list of what you’ll want to grab quickly when the zombies come a calling.

Do you want to bring your Nyquil in case you get a stuffy nose and/or a sore throat that keeps you from sleeping? Be my guest. However, keep in mind that the sleep you get from it will leave you less alert and more likely to become zombie chow.

Money

It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to leave a little bit of cash in your bug-out bag. During the first few weeks of the zombie apocalypse, people will retain their faith in the government’s ability to restore order. Thus, they’ll be willing to trade goods and services for cash, completely unaware that the president has already left us all for dead and is partying hearty in his underground bunker with a champaign flute in one hand and a buxom supermodel’s honkers in the other.

(Not gonna lie, world leaders will really be the only ones who totally make out like bandits during the zombie apocalypse, which is totally unfair, for as we will discuss later, if anyone is going to cause a zompoc, it’s going to be those asshats.)

How much money? The short answer is whatever you can afford to lose, because you’ll be keeping it in a random bag in your house and you just know that when the end times come and you need a hundred bucks to bribe a guard to let you through a gate that leads to safety, you’re going to reach into your bag and discover that one of your sticky fingered relatives already found it, swiped it and spent it on something stupid (candy, comic books, ticket to a Justin Bieber concert, take your pick.)
Lighter and/or Matches

From time to time, you’ll need to start a fire when you’re living in the wilderness. Maybe you’ll need to cook a squirrel you caught and never would have even eaten before but after months without fast food that furry little bastard is looking mighty good to you (and ironically, it will probably taste much like your favorite fast food chain’s burger.)

Some experts might tell you it is possible to make a fire using a flint stone, rubbing two sticks together, or by harnessing the power of the sun through a magnifying glass, but I’m not an expert on anything. I’m just a jackass with a magic bookshelf pulling random thoughts out of my butt.

At any rate, it probably isn’t very safe to leave flammable materials lying around in a bag in your house either, so…ok. Scratch this idea too.

First Aid Kit

This is a must have. Some bandages. Some gauze. Maybe educate yourself on how to treat a wound. I have no idea how to do that shit either so let me know if you do.

Weaponry

Ah, finally. The gun control debate that’s tearing our country apart finds its way into a Bookshelf Q. Battler book.

Folks, here in America, we have the right to bear arms. This right has been written into our constitution due to a rather abusive relationship we had with our pre-democracy ruler, the King of England.

I’m sorry but someone has to say it. King George was an epic douche. Always bossing us around and telling us what to do. Forcing us to house his damn redcoats. Taxing the shit out of our tea.

We don’t drink as much tea as we used to and today we have  taxed ourselves at rates that would make the Founding Fathers spin in their graves, but still. It’s the principal of the thing.

If we’re going to be required to take a portion of our hard earned moolah and feed it to the bureaucratic beast known as government, then we at least want a say in choosing via elections which public officials will fleece us and which song and dance routines we want to see as these officials promise they’ll do one thing with our money and then once elected, do something completely different with it. Pick the song and dance routine that complies with whichever preconceived notions you have about the world that will never occur because political types just do what they want in the end anyway.

Like an empowered woman who has escaped an abusive relationship but remains fearful her nasty ex might break down the door at any time, we Americans still sleep with one eye open, frightened that the King of England will either come back for us, or a new, scary form of government will rear its ugly head and make us yearn for the good old days with the King.

Thus, Americans are understandably hanging onto this right. And aside from concerns about hypothetical tyranny, there’s always people who are rightfully afraid of crime, street gangs, terrorists, and assorted perverts.

Personally, I don’t own a gun. I could tell you that it is because I am trained in a variety of martial arts, from Kung-Fu and Krav Maga to Nerd-Fu and Obla Dee Ma Da.

But frankly, the real reason I don’t own a gun is because I did a mental calculation of the pros and cons of gun ownership versus potential risks posed to me and determined that due to my general incompetence and stupidity, the likelihood of me accidentally shooting myself or someone I care about was high whereas the likelihood of me needing to protect myself or someone I care about from a mob of violent weirdoes was low.

I’m in a weird place on gun control. I don’t want a gun. I don’t want to blow a deer’s brains out or anything. But I don’t necessarily want to see the right to own a firearm go away. After all, every time we surrender a right, the government grows that much stronger, and though the government we have today seems reasonable, who knows what it might morph into tomorrow.

On the other hand, we do have a problem with mass shootings and other gun related crimes. I don’t have the statistics but generally speaking, I don’t recall there ever being as many instances of mass shootings when I was a young lad in the 1990’s as there are today.

We were better at handling our depression in the 1990s. We’d pop on some alternative rock. A moody as hell bearded dude dressed up like a lumberjack in his best flannel would sing a depressing song. All of us young folk would sort of half-dance by swaying a few inches to the left then a few inches to the right with our heads down. We essentially handled our depression by going out of our way to let everyone know that we were depressed all the time.

Today’s kids are different. Parents and teachers and shrinks and everyone pumps kids full of so much happy good time, sparkly sunshine, special snowflake, get a participation ribbon just for showing up bullshit that when they become adults and meet up with someone telling them no for the first time, they grab a heater and go berserk.

And yes, I do realize its not only the millenials losing their shit. Old people have engaged in mass shootings. Middle-aged people have as well.

So I do understand why many people today are throwing their hands up, declaring society as a whole can’t be trusted with individual gun ownership, and demanding that the right to bear arms be thrown in the trash.

I’ll have to paraphrase the late great Ronald Reagan here. He once said that “the closest thing to eternal life on Earth is a government program.”

I’d go a step further and say that the closest thing to eternal life is a right. Once the government says you can do something, it becomes difficult and practically impossible for that right to be taken away.

I don’t know what the answer to the gun debate is. A long held government right vs. too many people getting blown away by wackos. I’m just a mild mannered humorist so I can’t tell you how to resolve this debate, but I hope the various and sundry folks at the helm of our national ship figure out a way.

Did I have a point with all this? Oh right. So honestly, I am not going to tell you to go out and get a gun or a knife or some other kind of weapon to prepare for an apocalypse of any kind, be it a zombie apocalypse or an apocalypse generated by some other type of disaster.

The odds that you’ll shoot or stab yourself, or someone else, maybe even someone you love are high whereas the likelihood of you needing a gun or a knife or another weapon to fight zombies are 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 to 1. Shit, that’s a lot of zeroes, but that’s also how unlikely zombies will ever become anything more than make-believe.

Should you feel dumb for buying this book then? Probably, but it’s too late. I have already spent the money you shelled out for it on a delicious wings and skins sampler.

Burp. Excuse me.

If you are already a gun and/or knife or other type of weapon owner, I hope you’re exercising your right to bear arms cautiously. If you are, then surely you know it is a dumb idea to keep guns, knives and other weapons lying around in a bag in your house. You must, must, must keep all weapons locked up in a safe, secure location, and there is plenty of information out there on how to do that.

Bottomline

Hmmm. So I have determined it is a bad idea to leave weapons, fire starting implements, and medicine in a bag that’s just lying around your house. Perhaps this section was a waste of time.

Or maybe it wasn’t. You can still pack a bag filled with bottles of water, nonperishable packaged food, and as much cash as you can afford to lose. In the unlikely event that the zombies come, you can at least grab your food/water/money bag and run like hell.

During the first few weeks of post-apocalyptic survival, you’ll be able to survive off of the food and water you bring, and you perhaps could even trade some of your food and water with other survivors for goods and services.

Your money won’t be there because you always knew your buddy Doug was a dirty, dirty thief.

Up your nose with a rubber hose, Doug. You know you spent my zombie apocalypse money on hookers and blow. #WorstBuddyEver

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May 15 2016
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BQB's Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse – Chapter 1 – Section 2 – Zombie Proofing Your Home

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Zombies will be trying to break into your crib at all times. You need to nip that shit in the bud.

Whether it’s a swanky mansion in Beverly Hills or a crumbling old shack in East Randomtown, your home is yours. It belongs to you.

And I don’t know about you, noble reader, but I’d rather sing a karaoke version of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits while Japanese businessmen pelt me with rotten eggs than allow a damn dirty zombie to drive me out of my home.

This is America, damn it, and if those zombies want my house they’ll have to either yank my stank ass corpse out of it or at the very least, make me a reasonable offer based on fair market value, adjusted for inflation, with additional moving expenses added in.

I’m not going to tell you that it is possible to fully zombie proof your home. After all, put enough zombies anywhere and they can destroy anything.

But I will tell you that these are some steps that will slow the undead down:

Board Up Your House

Yes, right now.  Every door. Every window. Every entrance. Nail boards over all of it.  Then in bright orange spray paint write “Zombies Not Welcome” all over the boards.  Or, if you want to be tricky, put up a sign that says, “All the Brains in this House Have Already Been Devoured in a Grotesque Manner.”  Zombies are pretty dumb so they’ll fall for it. And let’s face it. No one in your house is a rocket scientist so a sign reading “No Brains Here” wouldn’t even really be that much of a stretch would it?

Do you want to be nailing boards over your doors while zombie hands are busting through the walls and getting all grabby with you? I think not. So nail your house shut and then sit in the corner and wait for the zombie apocalypse like a good reader.

Then again, I suppose if you did all this the neighbors would probably assume you are a wacko and call the cops on you.  And it would harm your home’s ventilation, cut down the interior air circulation, rob you of natural lighting,  and turn you into an unhealthy shut in.

Shit. OK. Change of plan. DO NOT board up your house.  But go to Home Depot and get a bunch of boards and store them somewhere nice and safe so you’ll have them ready to go when the news reports start warning of an impending zombie attack.

If you can’t carry the boards, there are usually a lot of Mexican dudes hanging around outside Home Depot waiting to help people carry anti-zombie attack boards in exchange for a few bucks. That’s not a racist statement. That’s just how it is.

In fact, and I don’t mean to tell the news media how to do their jobs here, but someone really needs to ask Donald Trump who the hell is going to carry all of our anti-zombie home protection boards when all the Mexicans are sent to the other side of the wall that he wants to build and bill to the Mexicans.

By the way, that reminds me:

You Need to Build a Wall

You need to build a giant wall around the entire perimeter of your home. You need to do it fast, you need to do it now and you need to make the zombies pay for it.

Don’t let the zombies fool you.  Many of them are still carrying the wallets that belonged to the people they were before they became undead shells of their formers selves. So they’ve got the cash to reimburse you for anti-zombie wall.

In that wall, there should be a door. You can use it if you ever want to leave your home for whatever reason. Maybe you need to go on supply runs or something.

Now it’s your home so you can choose to let zombies in if you want, provided that they pass through your rigorous vetting process, but make no mistake about it, zombies will only be allowed to pass through the door in your wall legally.

Look, this idea isn’t going to be popular but I’m just going to say it. Maybe we ought to put a total moratorium on all zombies entering your home until we figure out what in the hell these zombies are up to.

So get your ass back to Home Depot, grab some bricks and mortar and hire those Mexicans to build your wall for you. The higher the better because pole vaulting is not exactly a zombie’s strong suit.

Um, you might need to get some permits and the approval of various officials before you build your wall.  There’s probably limits on how high you can build too.  You know what, I’m just going to let you figure that part out on your own. I can’t do everything for you.

Get a Gas Powered Generator

These will become a hot commodity during a zombie apocalypse so rather than wait and put yourself in a position where you’ll have to sell you body to some redneck in order to get one, why not invest in one today?

Go get one, get it set up, and keep a reasonable supply of gas on hand. I mean, you don’t want to keep so much that you’ll burn down your house, but enough so that you’ll at least be able to run the lights and let your kids play their stupid video games so that you won’t have to talk to them or read to them or do any parenting or shit.

(That was a joke. Parent your kids and teach them to be solid citizens.  Who knows? Maybe with your help they’ll grow up to become respectable world leaders who won’t allow a zombie apocalypse to happen.)

Security Systems

If you have a home alarm monitoring system, it’s not going to work once the power goes out.

Thus, a pesky zombie could break into your house and if you’re fast asleep, you won’t know he’s inside until he’s munching on your face.

Various anti-zombie experts will differ on this, but I recommend hiring a band of hobos to walk around your house.  Promise to send some food their way once in awhile and in exchange, they’ll be expect to shout, “BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!” if they see any zombies coming your way.

Oh, right. My attorney advises me to to warn you that hobos are a violent, ill-tempered lot and should not be trusted anywhere near your home.

Really? That seems kind of racist against hobos.  Wait. Hobos aren’t a race. Classist? I don’t know.

You know what. Forget it. Don’t put hobos in charge of guarding your house.  Damn lawyers ruin everything.

Store Food/Water

Who knows how long the zombie apocalypse is going to last?

If you’re stuck in your home for an extended time period, you’re going to get the munchies like a futhermucker.

I’m no expert, but rarely has that ever stopped me from offering my opinion on anything, so here goes.

Perishables won’t last very long. Raw meat, cheese, milk, it’s all going to expire quickly if the zombies knock the power out and you didn’t have the foresight to get yourself a back-up generator.

You’ll probably want some powdered milk, packaged foods. Twinkies, I’m told, will last through a nuclear war and I know this because whenever I eat one I feel like it is still dancing in my belly for hours.

Do they still make Twinkies? I thought they stopped making them for awhile but then I thought they made a comeback. I don’t know.

Water is definitely something you’ll want. There’s all kinds of literature out there that will tell you how to keep it safe and drinkable even after storing it for long periods of time.

Do you know they have this invention now where it is like a giant bag you can put in your tub, fill it up with water and then your tub becomes like your own personal water storage tank?

Obviously, if there’s an impending disaster that could affect the quality of your water, you’ll want to fill that bag before said disaster.

With zombies, you could probably wait until news of a zombie epidemic spreads.

Then again, zombies have been known to pee in town water supplies.

You know what? It’s up to you. If you want to stop showering so you can leave a giant water bag in your tub in the event of a zombie apocalypse, be my guest.

Sorry.  There are probably people out there more qualified than I am to tell you how to package and preserve your water and food stuffs.

“You need twinkies and water” is the best advice I can give you.

Also, if it gets down to the point where you have to drink your own urine, consider just giving up and letting the zombies have you.

I mean, it’s your wizz, for Christ’s sake. There can’t be anything tangy or delicious about that.

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May 15 2016
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BQB's Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse – Chapter 1 – Pre-Apocalypse Planning – Section 1 – Getting Your Body in the Best Physical Condition Possible

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You’ve got a lot of work to do between now and the zombie apocalypse, my friend.

Noble readers, waiting until the Zombie Apocalypse begins to figure out how to save yourself from the undead hordes is a lot like waiting until you walk in on your girlfriend bumping uglies with your best buddy in your bedroom to confront them even though you know you saw them making googly eyes at each other at that raging kegger last Thursday.

Either way, the situation stinks (figuratively and literally) and someone’s getting screwed.

Do you kids still do keggers?  I have no idea. Bill Clinton was chasing interns around the oval office with his pants around his ankles when I was in college.

At any rate, you get my point. A Zompoc may or may not be coming but if it does, then you’ll want to be like Bill Paxton in Twister and get ahead of that shit storm.

Sorry. There will be many 1990’s references throughout this guide. Be forewarned.

Take copious notes, students, because I’m going to break down what you need to do so that you will be ready when the undead start breaking down your door.

Way in advance of the Zombie Apocalypse you will need to:

  1. Get your body in the best physical condition possible.
  2. Zombie proof your home.
  3. Pack a bug-out bag in case you need to flee your home.
  4. Identify ideal places to flee to if you must flee your home.

Pay attention, Geekensteins, because there’s going to test on this later.  And no it’s not going to be a multiple choice test. It’s going to be an “Oh my God a damn zombie is trying to eat my face so now I wish I had paid more attention to Bookshelf Q. Battler!” kind of a test.

That’s right. I’m going to save you from a zombie eating your face.

PREP STEP #1 – Get Your Body in the Best Physical Condition Possible 

Cardio

In addition to being perhaps the best comedic film about zombies, Zombieland also provided the world with a great deal of useful information.

Jesse Eisenberg wasn’t kidding when he advised you to do lots of cardio. The longer you can run without breaking a sweat or getting tired, the less likely it is that a damn zombie will chase you.

Amongst the zombie expert community, there’s a difference of opinion about just how fast zombies are.  Some say they are incredibly slow and dim-witted. Others say that they are very fast and dim-witted.

Everyone agrees that zombies are dumber than cacti, but personally, I don’t want to wait until a zombie’s teeth are clamping down on my vital organs to find out how fast they move.

No thank you. I’m going to assume that all zombies move like Jackie Joyner Kersey.

Jackie Joyner Kersey? Anyone? Anyone? Famous Olympian from the 1980s and 90s?

Shit I’m old. Maybe I ought to just give up and lie down and allow the zombies to have their filthy way with me.

No.  I can’t. I have to think of you.  There are so many lives I can still save with my anti-zombie knowledge.

Bottomline.  I get it. Life is hard. You’re very busy. There’s always ten things you need to do that are more pressing than getting your butt on that treadmill in your spare room that you turned into a coat rack long ago.

But if the thought of running away from a pack of hungry zombies for a little bit until you keel over from exhaustion and get torn limb from limb won’t motivate you to jump on that treadmill and bump up the incline then I don’t know what will.

P.S. even if the zombie apocalypse never happens, all this working out is going to make you look fab-u-lous!

Strength Training

Cardio’s great but you’re also going to need to pump your pythons.

What…what are you doing? No. Stop. That wasn’t a masturbation euphemism.

I’m talking about lifting weights.

Now, I belong to a gym and like any gym in America, it’s filled with two things:

  1. Old dudes who feel a bizarre need to walk all over the locker room with their wrinkled as hell wangs flapping in the breeze on full display.  

I’m not even kidding. They comb their hair while they’re naked, they shine their shoes while they’re naked, they tie their shoes, shave off their beards, trim their nose hairs, they do all of this nonsense while they’re naked. For Christ sake’s, old dudes, put on your pants then go through your entire bodily grooming regimen!

And before you say it, no, it’s not that I’m complaining because they’re old. I’d complain if a young dude this too. But young dudes don’t do this. Young dudes (whatever, just because I watched Friends while it was still on the air doesn’t mean I can’t call myself young so shut up) usually exercise discretion and keep their pants on.

Seriously. I don’t know what it is with old dudes in locker rooms. Maybe they figure they’re going to croak soon so they might as well take advantage of their last chance to be voyeuristic, or maybe at a certain age you run out of shits to give and don’t care if your naked walk abouts inspire off-topic rants in books about zombie apocalypse survival, but either way, I must move on.

2. Muscle Bound Dudes Offering You a Neverending Stream of Free, Unsolicited Advice

I don’t know about you but whenever I go to my gym, I can’t lift a bar bell more than three times without some jackass the size of an ox who looks like he’s straight out of Arnold Schwarzengger’s Pumping Iron sauntering up to me to say something like, “You’re doing it all wrong, bro.”

OK I get it. It’s very negative to automatically perceive someone’s attempt to help me as an insult. The guy could actually be trying to help me. Perhaps he knows some strength training techniques that could be of assistance. Maybe he was once a weak ass loser like me and wants to hook me up with some advice.

But frankly, I’ll look at myself in the mirror next to said muscle bound dude and I just feel like saying, “Ha. I get it, sir. Your much manlier than I am. You bang more chicks than I do and your penis probably puts mine to shame. Please now, allow me to struggle with this pink bar bell I stole from the Curves across the street in peace.”

Curves?  You know. Women have all these gyms that are just for them so they don’t have to deal with men checking out their butts while they do their squat thrusts?

I’m not going to say we’re not checking out their butts, but you know, if a female butt happens to be in my line of sight while I’m throwing up my pink bar bell that’s not my fault.

OK. Let’s reign it in here.  You’ll want to get as strong as you can because you’re going to have to lift a lot of heavy shit during the zombie apocalypse.

Maybe you’ll have to carry a big bag of supplies.  Perhaps you’ll have to let your best friend lean on your shoulder for awhile until you reach a shelter.

Hell, you might even have to climb your ass up a tree to avoid a bunch of angry brain chompers.

And based solely on knowledge gained from watching the same zombie apocalypse themed movies and TV shows that you have, I know for a fact that you’re going to be bringing down machetes, baseball bats, tire irons, department store mannequin legs, and other assorted blunt instruments down on zombie heads all day long.

If you don’t pump your cannons, that shit will wear you out.

Put on that muscle so you’ll be ready to do the zombie hustle.  But remember I only said to…

Get Yourself in the Best Physical Condition…Possible

Some of us are naturally born athletes and some of us aren’t. Some people can scarf down a whole pizza and never gain an ounce. Others can chew on a celery stalk and end up with an ass the size of a barcalounger.

We all come in different shapes and sizes.

Do the best you can but realize you’re not a miracle worker either. You have to make do with what God gave you.

There are simple steps you can take immediately. Quit smoking and drinking. Cut back on sugar, caffeine, and peanut butter cups. Stop lying. You’re eating a peanut butter cup right now. I know you are.

Yeah, you think you’re funny but you won’t be laughing breaks himself off a piece of your Kit Kat Bar.

Drink more water and get more fiber in your diet. Eat your vegetables. Eat that yogurt that helps ladies poop. Why don’t they have a yogurt that helps men poop? I feel discriminated against because I don’t have my own poop assistance yogurt. Someone get a civil rights attorney on the phone.

Start today and maybe if the zompoc takes its sweet time, you could end up being an Adonis by the time the biters come a-calling.

But if you’ve got a body that looks like you’ve been freebasing Twinkie cream since the second President Bush said, “Don’t Mess With Texas” and the zombie apocalypse starts tomorrow, then you, my friend, are going to have to rely on bribery to get yourself through the end of days.

You’ll need to bring a bevy of goodies to use as you purchase the assistance of survivors in better shape than you.

And you’ll need to keep these goodies in your bug-out bag.

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May 14 2016
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BQB's Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Bad Ass Guide to Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse – Introduction

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Artistic rendition of what Bookshelf Q. Battler would look like as a zombie nerd.

Good day, noble reader.

Bookshelf Q. Battler here.

Most likely, we haven’t met yet, but I hold many titles.  Specifically, I’m a world renowned poindexter, epic nerdventurer, reviewer of pop cultural happenings, a magic bookshelf caretaker and last, but certainly not least, a champion yeti fighter.

I won’t waste too much of your time going into all that hullabaloo.  If you’re interested (and I hope you are) you can read more about my life by visiting my humble blog, “Bookshelf Battle” located for your convenience at bookshelfbattle.com

As of this writing, I’m proud to announce that the Bookshelf Battle Blog boasts upwards of 3.5 readers, and it would be a distinct honor for me if you would bring that total up to 4.5.

Hell, if you’re one of those fancy people who has friends, feel free to tell them about me and together, we can make my plan to get my website up to 30.5 readers by 2020 a reality.

If you’ll allow me this brief plug, the Bookshelf Battle Blog is a rousing celebration of all things nerdy.  I don’t mean to imply that you, specifically, are a nerd. Cool people purchase books on how to survive zombie apocalypses all the time.  For the rest of you nerds, I think you’ll feel right at home after your first visit.

I’m not going to lie.  It isn’t easy juggling my many duties. Did I mention on top of all this I hold two full-time jobs?

One of them even pays. I currently hold the distinguished position of Assistant to the Assistant of the Vice-President of Corporate Assistance of Beige Corporation, the world’s premiere supplier of beige products and accessories.

Our motto? “When you need to wear a color that says absolutely nothing about you as a person whatsoever, try beige!”

Yup. It’s a gig that is as boring as it sounds, but it does pay the bills.  Don’t worry, I’m only doing it until my career as a self-published writer takes off.

FYI my writing career needs to take off or else a maniacal alien despot has pledged that he will conquer the planet, but I don’t want to bore you with my problems.

Well, technically it’s also your problem, unless you’re one of those who weirdoes who thinks getting your planet conquered by an alien would be good times. Personally, I doubt it.

Theoretically, I’m not sure the aliens could do any worse than the folks running the joint right now, but this isn’t a political book, so I don’t want to open that can of worms.

Where was I?  Oh right.  Telling you about my two full-time jobs.

The second one only pays me in heartburn and increased stress levels.  But it’s also the reason why I have become an expert on the subject of zombie attacks.

You see, I currently hold the position of Acting Mayor of East Randomtown, USA.

I was never elected and honestly, I don’t even want the job because it requires me to listen to the incessant complaints of a bunch of dumb dummies.  Literally, Kim Kardashian could challenge any one of my constituents to a debate and come off sound like Steve Hawking against these brain donors.

Look, I’m not trying to disparage my home town, but facts are facts, and here are some facts that will help you get the full picture of what I’m dealing with here:

  • An Absurdly High Mortality Rate – My home town leads the world in deaths caused by accidental choking caused by an inability to walk and chew gum at the same time.  I have done my best with a “Spit Before You Hoof It” campaign but I can only do so much.  We are also the town with the highest number of accidental drownings due to people leaving their mouths open when it rains. Thanks to my leadership, every neighborhood has a drown warden now, charged with the task of reminding everyone to shut their suck holes at the first sight of a rain drop.
  • Poor Education – Thanks to my “Books Won’t Steal Your Soul” initiative, I was able to convince more townsfolk to pursue higher education for awhile.  Alas, that all stopped when the local Hipster Hut had a sale on laser pointers. Now half the populace just draws on their walls with their laser pointers while the other half, much like cats, try to catch the light between their hands.
  • Favorite Pasttimes – Baseball?  No. Our official town sport is “Getting Drunk and Accusing Other People of Thinking They’re Better Than You.”  Resident Otto Dobner holds the record, having accused three hundred and eighty seven residents of thinking they’re better than he is.  (Between you and I, most of them were.)

Point? I never would have voluntarily sought the position of being the leader of this moronic wasteland.

Rather, I was drafted into the position in October of 2015, during which I bravely and selflessly took it upon myself to save the town from a zombie apocalypse caused by the evil mad scientist, Dr. Hugo Von Science. (Side note: Dr. Hugo is still a columnist for my blog but my lawyer is working on breaking that contract on the grounds of, well, he’s a nutbag who enjoys causing zombie apocalypses.)

Long story short, our elected mayor was eaten by zombies and then our self-appointed mayor tried to kill me and feed me to zombies.  Ultimately, I had to take the position and am doing my best to suffer through it until someone with half a brain is willing to take this burden off my hands.

I’m not holding my breath.  If you’re interested in the events of the East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse, you can read more about that on my blog. Hell, feel free to click a few extra buttons while you’re there because it gives me the warm fuzzies whenever I see my blog stats go up.

My purpose with this book isn’t to educate you about the zombie mayhem that went down in East Randomtown.  Suffice to say, under my leadership, a whopping 35% of the townspeople were saved, which sounds low, but if you think you could save more people during a zombie apocalypse, then feel free to write your own guide to surviving a zompoc, you braggadocios pain in the posterior, you.

Instead, my goal is to take you, the noble reader, open up your brain and pour in all the knowledge I gained as an experienced fighter of the undead, thus turning you into a bad ass zombie apocalypse survivor.

Noble reader, I’ll even make you this guarantee.

If a zombie apocalypse ever does break out and the knowledge you gained from this book does not prevent you from dying a miserably gruesome death at the hands of disgustingly wretched zombies, then simply send me a tweet @bookshelfbattle and I’ll happily give you a full refund.

And if there’s never a zombie apocalypse, then you’re welcome. No doubt that will be the result of all the zombie apocalypse avoidance information that you will also find inside this revered tome.

Thank you for your time, your interest, and most importantly, the sweet sticky scrilla you dropped on this book.  Know that it will be spent on a good cause, namely, a wings and skins sampler at my favorite chain restaurant, which I will stuff in my face hole in your honor.

Now take my hand and join me on this epic learning experience.

Hold onto your brains.  It’s going to be a bumpy ride. (And also, it makes it harder for the zombies to eat them.)

Warmest Regards,

Bookshelf Q. Battler

Blogger-in-Chief of the Bookshelf Battle Blog

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