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Two of the stupidest people on the face of the earth (shared with approximately 70 million Americans, but I digress) cross paths with a prepper. The duo talk the young lady into believing that the end of the world is going down – now. Convinced that there is no way anyone could possibly take them seriously, the stupids chase after Miss Doomsday, smoke a doobie, and come to the sudden realization that she believes them.

Hilarity ensues.

I’ve watched this short series twice. I enjoyed it even more the second time.

Those of you who have difficulty comprehending spoken English should be aware that there are no subtitles.

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“I already lost an hour’s sleep with the time change.”

Men. Always complaining about something. Now if they’d do something about that time change, perhaps it would go the way of the dodo. Because they’re unconscionably dense, men won’t. Consequently, you sleep the sleep of the dead, awaken, and dine on human flesh during each and every time change. That’ll teach ya.

All goes as expected until the Proud Bois are brought in to clean things up with predictable results on the last black man standing.

Gotta love the nice, heavy suicide doors on that Lincoln, also gone the way of the dodo.

Don’t be fooled by other, “modern” versions of this classic. The original is the only one that matters.

Here’s a link to the Wikiwand notes. (Wikiwand: Wikipedia Modernized is a Chrome plugin that clears up many of the vagaries of Wikipedia.)

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A mermaid, Dennis Hopper, and bongos, all on the Santa Monica pier. Priceless.

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Thoughts and prayers not working? Pray harder. If that doesn’t work, shoot the dog.

A microcosm of America today and for the next four years under a re-elected hero of the republic.

*

Don’t miss out on Night of the Hunter and Killer Joe, either.

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The Terminator.

Jennifer Garner.

Kicks.

Ass.

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She: I have to pee.

He: I’ll stop here on this isolated gravel road to hell.

She: No, I’ll wait til we get to town.

He: Okay then.

She: Heads out behind the closed restaurant to pull trou and herninate beside a checkbook, a collapsed blue tarp, and an abandoned flip phone. Nothing to see here.

He: I NEED MEAT.

She: In that case, let us stop at this out of the way, isolated diner by the side of the gravel road to hell.

He: We need gas.

She: We just ate meat at that out of the way, isolated diner by the side of the gravel road to hell. You’ll probably have all the gas you need in another 20 minutes.

Strangely enough, the abattoir is open, and fresh meat is on the way!

Jesus Christ. The horror.

Original footage shot in the ’10s and adapted for the modern cinema. I’m not certain of the distribution, possibly in December. I watched it online. I can’t imagine the scope of the work involved to bring this to life. If you can tough it out to the 25-minute mark, you’ll be rewarded. Sort of.

For The Fallen – They Shall Grow Not Old – Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943), published in The Times newspaper on 21 September 1914.