And They Still Want Our Money

Day 4, no, 5. I think. Time has lost most of its meaning for me. I can’t remember the last time I saw another human being. I know they’re out there. I’m here and I refuse to believe I’m the only one left alive. It’s something of a miracle I have access to post as my internet has been mostly down, and I can only hope someone out there will see this and let me know they’re well.

I can’t … I don’t know how long I have. I can hear them. They’ve got the house surrounded. I fed and cared for them, and it’s so hard to think my own two kitties have turned on me, like the rest of the animals in the city. I don’t know what happened to make them turn so quickly, attack so viciously, but just going to loot the local grocery store for what few supplies remain there has become so dangerous. I can’t go on this way. I need to know what happened, if my city is the only one ravished by feral animals. But aside from being able to log on here, the internet is useless. All I can get on my radio is static. My TV works; I can’t find news. It’s the end of the world, and all I can tune in are the horrible commercials that have long clogged the airwaves. Bad commercials are the damned cockroaches of the media world, nothing can kill them.

Seriously?! My cats want to eat me right now, and this homage to hetero marriage ala Fancy Feast cat food is what I find on my TV? Frankly, I think cats have always been closer to the eat me end of the spectrum… but I wouldn’t have been able to stomach using kittens as inspiration for a marriage proposal before, and now if I somehow survive this horror and the animals return to normal, I will have PTSD every time I see a cat. *shudder*

Dream big, little girl. When the world is rebuilt, if it is, I really hope that you’ll be able to grow up to have your own house so you can bake, do laundry and clean, clean, clean! I know making sure your house is clean for entertaining friends and family is really more important than anything else, if you’re a girl. It’s good you’re learning this young, so the new world will be perfect, spotless and full of freshly baked muffins.

I guess I’m lucky I wasn’t alive in the 60s. We’ve come a long way, baby. Haven’t we? Damn it, I never needed to see this ad – bad enough they advertised cigarettes on TV back then, but to do it in such a sexist way is … I wish I could say it was very 1960s. Wilma and Betty by all rights should be hawking Mother’s Little Helper in the next ad. Until the end of the world wiped out major portions of the population at least here in the States (and inferring it only from what I have seen here), we’d totally gotten rid of this kind of attitude, right?

Wrong. Same shit, different era.

Also? Screw you, Klondike. You may be delicious, but I’ll never know it because I hate your ads that reward people for being jackwagon sexists.

And then there’s this. What a bunch of … actually, this is quite awesome. Sure, the old lady is doing the vacuuming, but she seems to be living alone, so who else would do it? It’s not woman’s work, it’s just work. Maybe … maybe all is not lost after all. Clever marketing still exists. Maybe things will be okay. But I need more than hope founded on one bright spot in advertising.

I need to know I’m not alone. Someone, please tell me what you think of these commercials – or if you know what happened out there. Military accident? Act of war from [insert country we’re afraid of this decade]? That thing from I Am Legend and people who didn’t get chowed on by Fluffy and Spot are next to turn bad? I need to … shhh, shhh oh, no. I’ve been too preoccupied with this. I have to … they’re going to …

ETA: Welcome to Blog Like It’s the Apocalypse 2011! 😀


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