Thanks for tuning into my podcast, “Am I Rich Enough to Survive the Apocalypse?” It’s great to have you here! I’m getting a lot of super dreary listener mail lately so today let’s start with a quick reminder: The end of the world is going to be a total blast — those cute little foil packages of water, the flares, the foil ponchos that keep you warm in the wilderness, the straw that lets you drink out of a puddle? It’s all so sexy I can’t handle it.
But there are still things that you preppers are pretty deluded about. Like why would I hike into the hills when I can just camp out in my backyard? Trust me, setting up a tent next to my swimming pool is going to be way more convenient than dealing with mountain lions, not to mention all of that fine gray dirt that sticks to everything. Plus if I forget like a can opener or whatever, I can just run inside and get it.
Personally, I’m considering filling my pool with fresh water instead of chlorinated or salt water. Do they do fresh water pools now? I’ll have my personal assistant look into that. Also, if you stick that puddle-filtering straw straight into your chlorinated pool, will it take the chlorine out? Is there a filter that does that? These are the little details I always text to my assistant Simone because if I start Googling them I’ll lose my whole day to it, and as you guys know I have a million other things to do right now.
Now let’s just say you decide to hike into the wild, because that way you’ll get to use your cute little hand-crank flashlight. Understandable! Just remember that your Jackery 240 charging station with 60W solar panel is only enough for your iPhones and Nintendo Switches, plus maybe a small box fan (I cannot stand being too hot!). If it’s winter, you’ll obviously need some matches so you can burn scraps of wood to stay warm. But you’ll also need a carbon capture device that fits into a backpack, because let’s not kick Mother Earth when she’s down, right? You’ve got to grab all that carbon and take it back. Siri, text Simone: Portable carbon capture, find on Amazon.
Hey ho! Onward. Adelle from West Covina writes, “What about my skin? How do I make sure it stay hydrated and dewy while I’m out grilling steaks in the forest or whatever?” Good question, Adelle. Most people are completely unprepared on this front. Like during that period between when Sephora closes up shop permanently and everyone on Earth dies? That’s the danger zone I’m talking about. Personally, my skin is going to get super craggy and desiccated and I’m telling you right now, I can’t live that way. So I’ve got an entire backpack dedicated to La Prairie and Glossier lip balm, enough to keep me glowy for a solid three years.
Don’t scoff, prepper buddies. Because If I were a cave woman or whatever, and my lips just got more and more chapped, day by day? I would lose it. I’d be Darryl Hannah in “Clan of the Cave Bear.” Wasn’t she shunned for being too aggressive and unpredictable, even though her skin looked fucking fantastic? I don’t want to have 145 days of water in foil pouches and then murder my husband just because my lips are so shredded that I literally can’t stand the sound of his voice.
Come to think of it, I should ask Simone to look into stockpiling antipsychotic meds. Clearly I’ll be getting lots of good exercise from hunting and fishing and whatever, and that’ll be fun and also great for my complexion. But running from predators is going to mess with my knees. Maybe some gentle Pilates, out there in the dust? Does Pilates attract predatory animals? If so, we need to know which moves do that and which moves are going to be safe. Siri, text Simone: Which Pilates moves are safe around mountain lions?
Siri, text Simone: How much rose water can we realistically bring with us? In the apocalypse backpack.
Siri, text Simone: Are you going to be with us when the world ends? Because we’ll need more water and Kind bars. Or are you going to try to trek back to your apartment in… where is it? Like Echo Park? South of Koreatown? It might get dangerous down there.
I hope you guys have been having these kinds of uncomfortable conversations with your staff already. Like how many employees can you reasonably drag into the wild with you, right? Maybe the gardeners can come, because they’re strong enough to carry the Jackery 240, plus the crates of extra virgin olive oil and cauliflower hummus and the white noise machine you need for sleeping. But the nanny? No way. Give her your best butcher knife and wish her luck.
That reminds me: Siri text Simone: Honey, I’ve been thinking it over and I don’t think you should come with us when the world ends, hope that’s not a problem, bye.
OK, that about does it! But before I sign off for the week, let me take just a second to address the gentleman who sent me a link to some primitive survival guide that talks about, like, collecting rain water on leaves? SIR. YOU ARE COMPLETELY MISSING THE POINT. We are talking about higher-level concerns here, like best mental health practices and skin hydration. Does the smell of La Prairie attract wild packs of coyotes, the way it attracts my dogs? Are there survival-themed agility classes for dogs that teach them strategies for defending against a mountain lion attack?
Remember, preppers: Pragmatism is the name of the game. But are we going to have fun out there, once the world dies? You’re goddamn right we are! Woohoo! End times means good times, baby. Believe it!
The paperback version of What If This Were Enough? went on sale this week. Treat yourself to a copy — you deserve it! And if you’re in New York, LA, Durham, or Seattle, come out and meet me for an end times jamboree.