Walmart: a glimpse into a post-Collapse situation...

I survived Walmart the day after Thanksgiving.

But it was harrowing.

The wife and her mom wanted to go shopping, but being in a rural area, the only thing within a 3 hour drive was the Walmart (WM).  So with a list in her hand, we headed into the store at 9pm, with hopes of buying stuff at 10.  She bravely went to the video game area (by the veggies) for gifts for the niece and nephew, I headed to the bed sheet area (near the frozen food) for new sheets for our new bedroom in the loft, the MIL went for board games (garden center) for gifts for the niece and nephew, and FIL went to electronics for a BluRay player for us.   In place and waiting by 9:05.  We walked past the local PD officer (just one.  And I think he knew he was screwed when the rioting started).

9:15 at the sheets.  There are several stocking carts of sheets and comforters.  Several patrons have punched through the plastic wrap to put their hands in the handles of the comforter bag.  They will not let go, and give stinky looks to anyone who eyes them.  Other soccer moms have ripped the other plastic wrap on the sheets and are moving their selections to the bottom rack of the cart so they can easily grab in 45 minutes.  I'm situated within 2 feet of the sheets with my shopping cart.  The soccer moms have started to do the Black Friday math:  they are counting the number of sheet sets, calculating how many they can grab, and who, surrounding them, will be out of luck and may get desperate.

It's sheets, people.  Sheets.  If I miss out, I won't shed a tear over it.  It's sheets.

9:30 still at the sheets.  The look on the people surrounding me at the sheets is seriously starting to scare me.  I start to assess the situation and am seriously thinking exit strategies.  I text my wife, letting her know that when SHTF, this is what it will look like.  Finally, the woman in front of me (who pushed me out of the way 20 minutes ago to get up against the sheets) asked me what I needed.  I told her K&Q sets, and if they were to fall off the cart and was kicked towards me, I would no longer block her exit (I needed to get out of there, my exits were starting to be blocked).  She kicked me the sheets, I hid them under my coats in the basket and got the hell out of there.  My wife is telling me that they are about to flash mob the video games and she was 2 feet from the games, and was unable to escape.

9:45 in the men's section, near the $9 jeans (I go through a lot, and raw sewage has a tendency to stain.).  It's more of a spread out area, and a nice collection of older men are standing around.  By now, you can taste the tension in the air, and it's getting worse.  There was a screaming noise from the sheets and I can see workers cutting the plastic wrap and people running to it and from it.  It seems to be that they were preparing for 10pm, but it was useless.  Some frantic employee screamed over the PA about how we cannot touch the merchandise until 10pm.  The workers came over and unwrapped the jeans.  We helped them with all intentions of helping ourselves when we were done.  I was the youngest (35) out of the maybe 8 people over there.  This.... woman that looked like she never missed a buffet grabs me and screams at me that we are not to touch the stuff until 10.  I came about a half a second from removing her hand from me, when I told her we were helping her employee.  She backed off for a minute.  We helped them finish, so they can go on to the next warzone.

I reached over to grab my 2 pairs of jeans, then she came running over, grabbing me again (I must be so studly that women can't keep their hands off of me).  As she yelled at me again, I informed her that if she touches me again, I will break that hand, and grabbing me like that was assault.  She finally backed off.  As the spokesman for the jeans people, I told her if we have to put our stuff off, then everyone else that passed by with 10pm deals had put theirs back.  And good luck with that.  She finally left, and even the old Spanish man thought he was unfairly harassing me.  Oh, well.  As soon as she ran off, screaming at some random person who had whatever in their basket, I grabbed my jeans (we all did) and moved on.

9:55pm.  My poor wife.  The mob has really deteriorated by now. One of the employees (teenager) is standing on the pallets of games screaming at them.  The mob is shaking the pallets getting more and more frenzied.  I'm 50 feet away, standing on the shopping cart to try to see the wife.  No luck.  The employee is threatening to shut the whole operation down, the cop is just standing there, probably wondering what to do, and the crowd is starting to rip through the plastic, grabbing what they want, and running.  My wife reported that people were just grabbing 10 games or videos (all the same title) and running.  I did the math: 500 games, 500 people = 400 people will get shafted and will riot harder.  She comes over, with a handful of games, all different titles, but none of the ones she wanted.  We head across the store to find the MIL and FIL.  MIL got into a fight over Candyland with some other person (we were surprised she wasn't arrested), but made it out with a ton of loot.  My FIL found us as we checked out, with the 10pm special BluRay and the 12am special BluRay.  He somehow got the cheaper, better one and I didn't ask questions.


Thankfully, we were out of the store by 10:15.  My wife said "never again."

The sheeple were clawing over each other for sheets.  Imagine if it had been the last can of spam?

Oh, and by the way, my sister spawned her offspring Friday.  Her water broke in Home Depot.  But not to worry, she still got the grill that she got there early to fight over for a sale.  And she was on bedrest for a low placenta or something (very dangerous for her to walk around), but needed to go to sales.  3 weeks early.  Yup, that's my really smart sister.  Dumbass.

For all my vets who are sick of the Occupy sheeple...

I saw this on Facebook and needed to share it.  It sums up my feelings for both the Occupy sheeple and our vets that sacrificed their lives so these mouthbreathing leeches can bitch about not being instantly wealthy:

Thank you vets, and get a job Occupy sheeple!!!

How will it end and how do you think it will end?

First of all, I think the whole hash mark thingy for the Occupy Wall St. is moronic and a sign that normal human communications is devolving into 160 characters (or however it fits).  #OWS.  Stupid.  However, I can embrace it enough to make fun of it.  #OccupyTheBarn or #OTB.  The goats have hit the 150 day mark and need to kid.  Now.  I'm tired of waiting, so I am #OTB and will chant, bang my bongos and refuse to shower until my demands are met (3 preggo goats, I want 8 babies (the over/under bet with my wife is 6 babies)), or until I get tired and/or have to go to work.

Onto the 99%.  I had a blinding flash of the obvious today.  99% of the population is unhappy with ______.  No kidding.  I bet 99% are unhappy because their job isn't cool enough, their pay isn't good enough, their woman/man isn't pretty enough, they never thought that they would have to actually pay bills, or even the things they want are hard to get.  It's called life.  It's tough, then you die.  It's an easy formula.  Consider yourself lucky you live in the era you do.  In the 1940's you would have been shipped off on a free vacation to the other side of the planet to meet new people and kill them.  And if you would have bitched this much about it, your friends would have shot you.  But that was the greatest generation.  BTW, you are embarrassing their memories by protesting.  THEY went to war to defend our freedom. Gladly, because THEY were taught a sense of duty and honor.  Some died there.  THEY came home, finished school, went to work, worked long and hard to get that piece of the American dream THEY dreamed about on the shores of Europe and Asia.  THEY became parents, not friends, of their kids and sacrificed to make sure their kids never had to go through what THEY did.  THEY left their world a better place then how they found it, and THEY are dying at a rate of 1,000 a day.  When THEY are gone, who will remind us of what the American Spirit is?  99%?  Maybe if you work, you can join the 1%.  But whining is so much easier.  Babies.

Duke's Post about TEOTWAWKI the other day got me thinking.  I know I give a lot of thought about how it might happen.  My question to you is three fold:

1. How do you think the SHTF will occur?
2. What would be the worse case scenario that you are preparing for?
3. If you had to decide how it would happen, what would be the "best" scenario?

Honestly, I would like to see if my worst case is really the worst that could happen.

Off to bang my bongos or play the TIVO copy of the XFactor to the goats until they submit.

Using the 1st Amendment to protect the 2nd.

Love it.

However, I'm sure that they live in a subdivision with a HOA with Nazi-style laws, banning the use of these signs.  Besides, I'm sure when their neighbors get robbed, they will be sued for instigating.  

And if I posted that sign, it would be shot down in hours.  

First snow of the year.

This post goes out to my friend Arsenius the Hermit to remind him that old man winter is coming and he's heading for the mountains.

Woke up to some snow in the garden.

The chickens are still out and about in the snow.

The driveway is filled up.

White out conditions.

the non-pregnant goats and Sam looking for food from me.

Pow Pow getting ready to pop, in her pen.

 The Tweedles are ready to pop, too.  Couldn't get them to sit still for very long.

We got several inches last night of the white stuff.  The mountain pass to the west of the homestead got 3 feet of snow Thursday night. It's coming and we haven't all the winterizing done yet.  So busy day today before the LSU Tigers whoop the Florida Gators in a couple of hours.  We hope to get the wire and switches soon to wire the barn.  Another project, another time.

Weekend at the Homestead

It's another weekend here at the homestead.  Figured I would give you the nickle tour of the place on a Saturday afternoon.  

Sam is on the prowl, trying to figure out what I am up to.  He keeps the coyotes at bay, and all the female dogs in a 2 miles radius pregnant.  We plan to bring him to the vet to be "tutored," but don't tell him.

Goats.  From left, Ms. Priss, Tweedledum (we are thinking is carring 3 babies), and Tweedledum (maybe 2 babies, but C-section scars still on her side from Feb.)

From left, Ms. Scarlett, Jumper (not preggos, not happy), and Pow-Pow (she had 4 babies Feb, hoping for only 2 this time).  

The only time the goats are quiet.  Feeding time.  

The first raised bed.  Got winter rye in this one starting to sprout.  Hopefully I will get better with this.

Greenhouse.  Cleaned out the inside, and the raised bed inside is almost ready for lettuce and cabbage.  Will be installing glo lights for longer grow time this weekend, and cleaning up the garden area of debris.  In front of the greenhouse is hay we cleaned out of the barn to spread out.  This slowly composts over the winter and keeps the moisture in the first few inches of the soil.  Otherwise the ground dries up fast.

My first garden if you remember from my first few posts.  We plan to clean it up, let the chickens run free over it, plant more grasses, and make it the only grassy area on the property, and fence it in as my wife's quiet area.

Today's haul of eggs.  We share them with the neighbor we like all the time.  She offers to pay us, but we can't take their money.  We would rather make sure our eggs get eaten, then go to waste.

The chickens.

Another shot of the chickens.  That's the Great Sand Dunes National Park in the background.  I figure if the chickens have a nice view, their eggs will be filled with hope and change, and unicorn tears. No, but it is worth a try.  Note the lack of trees, which means I either need to drive 20 miles to the forest for wood, or buy it.  However, it makes patrolling my property easier.

Birthday Present

I obviously was good this year, so my wife let me get a new firearm.   When we went to Colorado Springs and the store ran the background check.  When I passed, he said I could buy 4 more guns.  My wife, in a moment of delusion, allowed me to purchase another one.

The top is a Ruger 9mm, and the bottom is a Remington 870, pump action 12 gauge.  The Ruger replaces my S&W .357 Magnum for close quarters, in house self defense.  

Here I am, practicing for the Golden Horde, without the use of proper defensive weapons.  See how I protect vital organs by laying on my stomach.  Hunter, on the left, trying to figure out the best way to make me yell in pain, and Hippie, on the right, just enjoying the time with her uncle and getting to hit something.