Some time in the future, I haven’t yet determined the date, I plan on conquering all of civilization. I will accomplish this objective alone. But I will need the items listed below should any of the readers find themselves in the position to lend me one or more (also, in advance, none of what you do in order to help me accopmlish my goal will exonerate you from being conquered). I will need:

1. a flamethrower of Medium to Very Good Quality. this medium to very good flamethrower must emit green flames. There is no reason for the greenness of the flame, only my inclination.

2. gloves made of frozen tears, to protect me from the green flames of the medium to (hopefully) very good flamethrower. I wouldn’t want to burn the small hairs on my hands. there will be a lot of heat during the conquering.

3. I will also need a pair of exceptionally small gym shorts. The shorts should have like one of those painted plastic boxes on the left or right. I will write my full name in the painted plastic box. I need maximum comfort, maneuverability and style, because part of the plan involves a lot of killing and the killing involves both a lot of jumping and, yes, jumping while carrying a heavy flamethrower. All of which work towards the collision of your balls against your leg. Unless your shorts can hold your balls. It would be inexpedient to be killing people and have things going all good and shit and then your balls hit against your thigh and you think for a second, 'I'm good, I'm good' but then you can't move. i need to maximize my efficiency.

4. I need a few coloring books, a 96 pack of crayons (48 is fine but nothing less), and a picture of you so I don’t get lonely while I am coloring.

5. a few rolls of toilet paper to manufacture disposable diapers for night time. I say this because I presume that when civilization is dead I will forget that it is wrong to shit while I am sleeping. It will be nice to relearn that, but I also want to contain it. hence the paper towel diapers.

6. a perpetually regenerating piece of red licorice.

7. a lot of q-tips.

8. sixteen billion baby deer with whom i will begin a new civilization based on the common need to eat and be alone.

9. sixteen million straws to manufacture a snorkel-device that would allow me to sleep at the bottom of the Atlantic.

10. an English to Eyeless-Fish Dictionary so if an eyeless fish wakes me up I know what to say.

11. a one thousand page notebook, unlined. Having conquered and killed everyone, I intend to write a long description of the overcoming, and then interweave a tale about how a dog teaches me to love myself and my grandpa. then we all learn lessons from sports and maybe i will tie all those themes together. I will study those Matt Christopher books where people like save their relatives from cancer by hitting homeruns and scoring touchdowns at the right moment during their maturation.

The ‘Overcoming’/Last-book-ever-written will be called, “Hit a Homerun for Grandpa, Little Billy and Kiss Your Basketball Playing Dog on the Nose.” I will insert myself as a character. My character will be like a peripheral character from a late eighties/early nineties teen movie. The climax of the book is me unlocking a key moment in the protagonist’s life after tracking him down at the old baseball field one night.

I’ll say, “Dude you gotta get to the dance, Stacy’s waitin man and Elliot is looking to show you up at dancing.”

Then he'll smile and say, “Batter’s up.”

6. I have totally forgotten what this post was about and I don’t want to read it so I will try to sum it all up: “yes, fucking can give your Hemorrhoids.”