I like to imagine I’d be the sort to make it in the wilderness… nope. I’m a skinny-fat cube rat with the endurance of a slug.
I wear glasses, have no depth perception, and have a habit of walking into door frames.
I’m top of the list of “those most likely to wind up a zombie within the first three days of The End.”
But it’s nice to imagine… strong, capable, swift! See me, as I build a raft from some reeds and shit and sail away! See me, as I knock some edible bird thing from the sky with a rock! Woo!
…nope. Dead. Dead dead dead.
