Notes on My Irrational(?) Fear and Loathing of Living in the State of Florida in the style of Hunter S Thompson
When I first saw this story last week posted on Facebook by a kooky and cute little friend of the family,, my immediate thought was to panic and start praying on my knees for mercy! "Holy Crap," I twitted, " someone call Buffy and tell her the Hellmouth has opened under Deltona High!" I fully expected to see an army of meth addled, monster truck driving refugees to begin pouring out of the confused maze that is Deltona at any second. There is a certain twisted logic here, for if the Zombie Apocalypse is going to start anywhere, why not here in God's waiting room? Even the slowest, shambling brain-muncher can find plenty to eat here, if it doesn't mind a little Alzheimer's and dementia flavored goo mixed into it's morning breakfast. Florida has been begging for an ass whupping from a pissed off God for a long time now, and I figured that all the guns in the world wouldn't save us this time!
So I began boarding up the windows and doors of our house and hoarding food in preparation for the coming shit storm. My family was at first horrified by this behavior, but soon enough turned to other matters as they assumed that I was just off on another rant that would land me in the local loony bin. A couple days passed and nothing happened, so I started calling governor Rick Scott's office looking for instructions and tips on how to keep my family safe in the event that we should be swarmed by hungry zombies, desperately seeking brains in a state where there is an extremely short supply of them to begin with!
"No, Lord Voldemort is not in!!" they told me, "now stop calling or we'll send a couple sheriffs by your place to drug test you."
"I'm sorry" I mumbled from the corner of my mouth as I was sucking on some loud, " has he changed his title or something? Has he been promoted to Lizard King ? You people need to get off your asses and get the national guard mobilized, we've got a really weird situation brewing down here and no one seems to give a shit..." But it was no good, Iwas talking to dead air. So I dialed again... "Hey, there's a crack whore on my doorstep screaming and wailing and asking if I want a blow job!! She says she is fleeing the destruction in Deltona and ..." Click, dead air again.
I could see I was getting nowhere with the reasonable approach, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. Back in 2011, I had drawn up some emergency evacuation plans in the event of an enormous tsunami coming to erase the wickedness that was rampant in my homeland. Living in the shallowest state of the shallowest nation in the world takes balls the size of Texas, and Florida had been living on borrowed time since 2000. We had a chance to elect an enlightened scientist/farmer to the highest office in the land, but instead we allowed a grinning, feces-flinging monkey to steal the election. Amerika, the world, and Krishna the Destroyer were not going to forgive us for that anytime soon, so as 2012 approached, I began to make plans for our eventual exodus from this doomed state in the event that the Mayans were right.
My idea back then had involved building a dike that faced east in our front yard to protect us from the first onslaught of the tsunami. Deland is about 25 miles from the coast, so i figured a 6 foot mound should do the trick. Then I was going to load up the family vehicles and get the fuck out of dodge before the survivors and refugees began to head north. My family was completely supportive of this plan, right up until the part where I told them we should build a boat ramp that led to the top of our carport. That's when they stopped nodding and smiling nervously, so I lost them on that idea. I still had the evacuation plans locked away in my mother's drop files, half a block away at the retirement center. Waves of fear and desperation began crashing down on me; I was really dreading that conversation with Mom so I decided to check the news one last time.
Florida schools had always been an issue with me, and an abomination of sorts. Some excuses must be allowed; Florida has special circumstances and a transient population. It's a state where gambling on the lotto is valued over teaching, and culture is defined by Mickey Mouse hucksters who can barely refrain from ass raping the wide-eyed tourists who show up every year. Regardless, I found out the problem with the high school had been going on for 10 Years now, and that school is planning to start in August, as usual. "Right, right..." I mumbled as the year 2004 slowly swam back into the recesses of my foggy memory. Apparently this was a separate, smaller hole that had opened at the same time as a larger, gaping pit of Hell that swallowed half of the road leading to school back then. I remembered having all the same fears back then, and how I had resolved the issue...
Ring, ring..."Governor Scott's office, how may I help you?"
"Can someone find Mr Gila Monster and give him a shake? I've got an update on the Deltona High School situation and everything is going to be okay. I've sent a tweet to Sarah Michelle Gellar. She's aware of the situation and I'm sure she be here any day now to assess the damage." Click...
So don't worry, people of Deltona. You can sleep safely in your rusty warrens, hidden down twisted, misleading streets. Buffy and I are on the case. We got this... Peace