The Forbes West Guide to Surviving The Apocalypse (AW Blog Post)

The Forbes West Guide to Surviving The Apocalypse

Hey there, Forbes West here, talking to you from sunny Southern California and I’m here to take a moment out of my drinking day to tell you how you can survive something that many of us inexplicably look forward to because we cannot stand the monotony of a relatively safe society: The Apocalypse. Why am I writing this guide? Because I care so much about you, the little people, Joe and Jane Six Pack, the wee common folk, the hobbits of modern life, if you will. To be honest though, it’s most likely that if The Apocalypse happens, you’ll either:

  1. Die instantly.
  2. Die slowly but not so slowly. Like you die in a couple of days, crawling into a bathroom and never leaving, sort of dying.
  3. End up as a mute slave working the salt pits of King Engine, praying for death and never receiving its blessing until every indignity and horror one can have happen, happens to you and all you love. Death will only come, though not soon enough, after you’re fed to laughing slow mutants.


So really, this guide probably won’t do squat for most of you. Because you’re a loser, and death is the ultimate judge who determines those that are winners and those who are losers. Jennifer Aniston said that. Look it up. Crazy, right? She was on “Friends”, and now she’s talking like a nihilist philosopher. I digress.

“You are a loser, and death is the ultimate judge who determines those that are winners and those who are losers.” – Jennifer Aniston

The Apocalypse. The End of the World, as “some people” “may” “call” “it”. Well, here’s the deal. Let’s clear up some things first. First off, it’s not really the end of the world most times. I mean, yes, the world as you know it, but there’ll be some sort of a world. So that’s the positive thing. Not one you would want, or care about, and would actively hate, but there’s a world. Unless its Judgment Day (and not Terminator Judgment Day, I mean Come to Jesus Judgment Day) or a comet slamming into the Earth and splitting the place into two pieces like a coconut hit by a .50 cal round, there’ll be some sort of world.

So that’s the positive thing. Always look for positives in these situations. Rule #1.


Now, Rule B. Before The Apocalypse occurs, you should be preparing for The Apocalypse. Wait. Maybe that’s Rule A. Or #1. You know, yeah, switch that. Rule #1, okay, is Prepare.

Now what do I mean by that? A lot of guides will tell you to stock up on water, canned goods, guns and ammo. Build a fallout shelter, they say. Have a “bug out bag”. Develop a network of people that can work together with.  Develop an escape route.  Have a car that won’t be affected by EMP.


Well, that’s just a bunch of boo hockey.  Most of it. I’m not so arrogant as to believe that it’s all malarkey, but most of it is.


You need to do only three things and only three things to survive The Apocalypse or “The Best Thing Ever”, as I like to call it.


First off, you should have a well-stocked supply of liquor. I’m talking liquor store amounts. Awful stuff like Busch Beer, Canadian Mist, Vons Grocery Store Vodka, Everclear.  Notice I didn’t say “the really good stuff” like Black Velvet or even, if you’re a Rockefeller, Bacardi Rum. This is key. You need plenty of it. So don’t blow the budget on being a baller liquor man or woman, because if the bombs dropped or half of the neighborhood is dead and currently devouring the other living half, most people won’t be caring about your taste in booze.  So quantity over quality is the name of the game here. Don’t be a hipster.

Why liquor, you ask? Why a lot of liquor? Well, cheap and plentiful alcohol can be used for many things during The Apocalypse.
1: Trade.  Example: You are now a wanderer of the broken highways where gangs now rule. Needing shelter for the night at a fortress made out of old cars run by The Carp Boss, you hang out there. A blonde girl with a face that isn’t being devoured by New Plague works the pool tables. You trade her a bottle of Seagrams (which is really half tap water now because you ain’t stupid, giving this teenage whore a whole bottle of fresh Seagrams) for a night in bed. You cry in her arms as you remember all those who have died, and she has pity sex with you for free. Little does she know your tears are not genuine, as you are heartless and cold. You steal the Seagrams back when she isn’t looking, and laugh knowing you probably just gave her New Plague.


  1. As An Anti-Depressant. Example:  Your family is dead. Your co-workers are dead or have fled. The nation no longer exists. Everything you ever worked for is gone. Your dreams of a successful future in Advertising have been replaced with dreams of not being eaten by cannibals. You kill an entire case of Busch and sort of feel better. You shoot a man who was raiding your pantry desperately for food in order to feed his family, knowing that it really was just a case of him or you. You drink a bottle of Canadian Mist and cry as you bury him in a shallow grave in your backyard. But then you find out he isn’y dead and he’s crawling out of the dirt and you beat him to death with a shovel. You drink a bottle of Everclear and pass out. You wake up the next day with your head hurting and have a nervous break down when you find his bloodied corpse. But with more booze, you block the memory and spend time trying to desperately play fetch with your dog’s corpse, too drunk to notice that Spot has gone home to the Big Kennel in the Sky.


  1. As a Weapon. Example: The vagrant who found your lair underneath the old YMCA on Atherton is getting mouthy after you said he couldn’t have the last can of dogfood. You hit him upside the head with a bottle of Everclear which doesn’t break because this isn’t the movies, this is real life. After you put the boots to him, you bury him in a shallow grave behind the YMCA where you have already buried your family and some other survivors. You drink the whole Everclear bottle to forget.  You cheat at solitaire and think of how pretty New York was in the fall.


Second off, you should have a gun. Some cheap ass little .38 or whatever. Don’t spend so much money on it. You need the money for booze, and again, I’m not assuming you’re a Rockefeller here. I mean if you were, you would already know the time and date of The Apocalypse because of the last Illuminati meeting you had in Antarctica.  And you’d have a personal army of Japanese made ninja kill-bots that wait in dark underground vaults ready to take over, and you don’t need to get your lizard claws dirty.


Anyway, so you get some crappy gun. Just something simple that can shoot. Now what you do is you find some local gun nut who’s been waiting his or her whole life for this, or maybe some police officer/military type with access to something rad like a tank or a bulldozer even.  Remember, this is a cold and indifferent universe, and everything has gone to hell and God is long dead, but damn it you’re gonna spend one more day alive.


So you find this person and you share him/her some of your cheap booze and because this isn’t the movies, they’ll probably accept because they’re depressed too because everything is crazy messed up.  But you make sure you don’t drink so much to screw up your reflexes. You suddenly yell out “Look at that!” They turn their head and you pop a couple right into the back of their skull. You think of what you did, but shrug because this is The Apocalypse.


You search the body, find the keys to their gun store/armory/shelter whatever in their coat pocket.  Under the cover of darkness you move in with your supply of booze.


You patrol the broken and empty streets at night and pick up stragglers, preferably orphaned children. You give them some of the booze and control them through dependency and fear of being shot in the face. In a month, you and your gang rule the neighborhood. In a year, you establish The Motor Kingdom and are known to feast on human beings. You die peacefully, thirty years later, only known as King (or Queen) Engine.


I think I said there was a third step or something but whatever. Booze. Lots of Booze. Murder and steal some guns. That’s it. That’s how you survive The Apocalypse.


Oh, and be positive! That’s sort of what I was getting at.

About Forbes West

Forbes West was born and raised in Chicago, Illinois and graduated with a Master's Degree in Political Science from California State University, Long Beach. He currently lives and works mostly in San Francisco, CA and owns a home in Ojima, Japan- a village five hours south of Tokyo by car that is in the foothills of Mt. Fuji.

Leave a reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *