I’m a survivor

Well, by now the whole world has heard the stories and seen the horrendous images of devastation from Seattle. The burning sofa, the crowds chanting “SEAHAWKS!” really loud. A city of a couple of million now reeling from the news that six drunken frat boys have been arrested for partying too hearty. It’s like living under really not very martial law-like martial law.

Info Wars, with its customary sobriety and sanity, tried to warn us all of the hell the Illuminati Half-Time show was about to unleash:

But did we listen? NO! And so Untamed Seattle Youth, their minds infected with Bruno Mars’ subliminal suggestions and the spectacle of shirtless, slightly portly rockers, poured into the streets under the direct control of the Illuminati to spread CHAOS. Behold the Horror of a big crowd standing around a burning thing, singing and cheering for the Hawks and politely letting a squad car get through to check out the burning thing!

Here in the post-apocalyptic wasteland that used to be Seattle before the Great Superbowl Riot of 2014, we are struggling to cling to civilization by taking naps, enjoying the sunshine, doing homework, and chatting with our neighbors. The hellscape of animalism unleashed by Seattleites has driven me to potter about on the Internet and, if unabated, may force me to read a book. How else to cope with the off-the-hook insanity of these raw pagan Norwegians in Ballard?:

If you want read other accounts of the nightmarish breakdown of civilization Seattle has endured since our Superbowl win, by all means check out How Seattle Riots. It is oh. so. true. In all the gestalt of Id worship, I completely lost control and gave bunny ears to the “Waiting for the Interurban Statues” in Fremont. I am *vibrating* with wild, anarchic energies. This must be what heroin is like!