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Title : If You Cant Handle Jell-O, You’re Officially Off My Zombie Apocalypse Team
link : If You Cant Handle Jell-O, You’re Officially Off My Zombie Apocalypse Team
If You Cant Handle Jell-O, You’re Officially Off My Zombie Apocalypse Team
No one's ever going to accuse me of being one of those "women who does it all." I hardly know how to do ANYTHING. Certainly nothing useful that would help me survive the zombie apocalypse, which is why I make it my business to list "zombie apocalypse survival aptitude" at the top of my list for critical friendship criteria.Like when the shit goes down, you're gonna need your squad.
That one "so-and-so-who-was-fun-to-party-with-in-college-for-ten-seconds" is a distant fucking MEMORY disappearing in a haze of bong hits and shitty hip hop the minute Kim Jong Un unleashes the Rage Virus via a nuclear warhead because Trump mocked his peen on Twitter.
And there it goes, over the Pacific Ocean, and before you know it, your'e warming your hands over a tire fire and looting Cheetos while an advancing front of zombies draws ever closer to your hideout in a storage unit at the edge of town.
In this scenario, ideally, your squad will all go into synchronized survival mode. And if you can't do shit, then you'd better be fun to hang out with, at least. It's a good thing a close friend of mine--who shall remain nameless-- falls into the latter category, because she is also an adult woman in 2017 with all of her faculties who can't handle Jell-O.
And by handle Jell-O, I mean literally handle Jell-O
Someone handed my friend a Jell-O shot while we were out tonight, and when you hand two people
That's when I instantly added a new minimum responsive requirement for membership on my zombie apocalypse team. You need to be able to handle Jell-O.
I get that it's been a long time since you've had a Jell-O shot, but really doing a Jell-O shot is one of those things that should be like riding a bicycle, as the saying goes. It's not like playing viola or speaking French. It doesn't just swipe-delete out of your brain due to its sheer complexity and disuse.
It's more like something that your basic chimpanzee could pull off on demand. Even making Jell-O shots is something I think a well-trained primate could do on demand. Like literally: Jell-O powder + vodka + refrigerator = THE END.
But as my mother-in-law once famously scolded after Jell-O that went missing from her kitchen following an unauthorized high school party, "YOU DON'T SERVE JELL-O AT A PARTY! YOU SERVE CHIPS!"
It's obvious my friend has reached the chips point of Jell-O shots awareness, and it's my job to bring her back from the edge. Both as a point of pride, and--in these troubled times--to save our very lives.
Thus Article If You Cant Handle Jell-O, You’re Officially Off My Zombie Apocalypse Team
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