Hi. How are you? I’m fine. Are you still on fire? Large swathes of the country were on fire this year; is that still happening? What about the floods? I also recall that there were floods. Oh, and something called a “bomb cyclone.” If I were a pattern-seeking mammal, I’d be standing as far away from you as possible right now, America. And now this: you have no government.
First off: did you check everywhere for it? Look in the car. Maybe you accidentally placed your government in the fridge while you were putting away the banana guacamole. Did your meth-addicted son steal it? What about your opioid-addicted daughter? Have you asked Alexa? (Assuming neither your son nor daughter have stolen her, too.)
If not, and your government is truly gone, then here are some tips, America.
Panic I know that Douglas Adams famously warned us all not to panic, but fuck him. He didn’t panic, and he’s dead now. Panic, and live forever. Don’t weak-sister that pandemonium, either: go full-boat loony. Eat the air conditioner. Wear the neighbors. Dig up George and Gracie. Really put your back into the panic.
Eat Tide Pods Tide Pods are only poisonous because of job-killing Obama-era regulations; without their enforcement, the detergent tastes like chocolate babka.
Shoulder Pads The leader of the post-apocalyptic mutant gang has shoulder pads, preferably with spikes on them. Break into the local high school and steal some football gear. Similarly, you may steal baseball uniforms and bats, but you’re gonna have to go all the way and paint your face with that outfit. Also, you gotta be skinny to pull that off: fat guy in baseball pants is not a scary look.
Some Laws Still Apply! Do not jump from high places. Perpetual motion machines will still not be feasible. Alchemy remains folly. Multiplying mass by acceleration will not result in a cheese plate. That which can go wrong shall continue do so. Judge Dredd should still be listened to.
But Some Don’t! You know how I’m always talking about taking your dick out at Foot Locker? You may. Due to a weird hiccup in the statutes, that specific form of public nudity is not governed by state or local law, but instead falls under the federal code. Hang your shit proudly and without fear. Wave that shit around. Look at your shit in those angled mirrors. You’ve probably never seen your shit from that angle. Now’s your chance, brother.
What About National Parks? Hah! Gotcha! That was a trick question: our national parks were secretly sold last week to a group of Saudi investors. All the female park rangers have been beheaded.
On the bright side, the Hawaiian Office of Emergency Management has been furloughed, so there won’t be any more of those horrible false alarms like last week.
In conclusion, America: enjoy your quick and vicious descent into anarchy.