In our continuing series Arming The Bedlamites: What Could Possibly Go Wrong?, our plucky gunmuffin is busily drawing up contingency plans for maintaining self sufficiency in a post-apocalyptic world, ruled by a merciless Kenyan Lame Duck Warlord, where it will be Every Man For Himself! and Devil Take The Hindmost! and Come And Get Me, Coppers! … followed by disconcertingly high-pitched hysterical laughter, wheezing and then the whoosh-hiss of an asthma inhaler.

In this episode, our hero sends out a frantic wireless transmission to his followers that A Hard Rain Is Gonna Fall and don’t plan on depending upon the kindness of strangers in a dog eat dog world and, oh by the way, can you all give me free money so that I can buy more guns and canned goods because I don’t have time to get a job and besides I’m kinda busy working on building this cool beans survivalist compound in the middle of the living room (Ft. Apache: The Couch Cushions) and also I still haven’t finished my Amy Alkon Shit Moat™ … so can you help a brother out?

As usual, no link, because I don’t want the guilt of being an enabler:

Just a few more months to what may just be the biggest election in this country’s history, and I need — yes, need, and desperately so — to raise the capital for at least one very good and reliable all-purpose rifle, one that I can use for defense, close quarter combat, hunting, and maybe even as a melee weapon.

Thanks to all the gun aficionados who frequent this site I have a much better understanding now of what that is.

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And as we can no longer rely with any consistency on the supposed “right wing” SCOTUS to protect what are very clearly delineated natural rights from the snowballing audacity of a government steeped in cynicism, political correctness, and faux morality, I’d just as soon start hoarding now, while there’s still time, before someone determines for me that I don’t really need what it is I’ve determined I need. For my own good, of course.

So. If you are of the mind to contribute, this is the month to do so — and whatever little extra you have to help me get armed properly will be very very very greatly appreciated. I’ve taken care of the pistols and the qualifying courses and the CCW licenses for both me and my wife; I’ve filled out the application to join a local gun club; I’ve had my oldest son, 8, familiarize himself with a .22 pistol and a .22 rifle; I’ve joined the NRA.

Now I need to get handy with a serious rifle and a shotgun. For when the zombies come.

In our next episode, tragedy befalls a devoted minion when he forgets the secret password (OUTLAW!) and is accidentally shot while attempting to deliver a months supply of Hot Pockets and Mr. Pibb.

Hilarious hijinks and a (another) trip to the urgent care center ensue…