Cookies = happiness in the face of adversity!
Saturday 4 May 0001 P.A. (Post Apocalypse) 11:45pm

While many of us, myself included, spent the first several months of Post Apocalyptic society all bummed and fighting the giant cockroaches for weapons and moral superiority, I've finally decided to do something positive. That's right, "positive." You remember the word, don't you? Used to be, before the bombs went off and over 80% of the human race was reduced to ashes or mutated beyond all recognition (not to mention total plant and animal life decimation), people would occasionally help one another out via miscellaneous donations or words of wisdom or the occasional telethon. I myself used to volunteer at a soup kitchen on Thanksgiving, shilling out "okay" turkey to the homeless and whatnot. That feeling of goodness is something I've desperately wanted to get back as I've been kinda depressed lately, having lost most of my friends and loved ones to radiation poisoning or death due to complications from exploding nuclear weapons and whatnot.

So, with that desire to help and my grandma-ma's chocolate cookie recipe committed to memory (as her superior peanut butter cookie recipe, which was too complicated for me to memorize, has, unfortunately, been obliterated), I've set about spreading a little bit of happiness across our scorched earth.

It isn’t as easy as one might imagine. It’s not like we still have grocery stores for ingredients or anything. I was able, however, to barter some hollow point bullets I’d found on a fairly lifeless body outside my rubble for flour and butter from an old survivalist lady who came out of her bomb shelter for the first time to see if there were, in her words, “Any poor bastards left.”

While agreeably generous with the flour and butter (which I say we just combine and call “floutter” from here on out), she wouldn’t part with her chocolate chips and claimed not to have any sugar. I knew the fat bitch was lying about the chips (she had chocolate on her face) and also lying about the sugar (she also had sugar on her face), so I did like anyone of you would’ve -- I ratted out her chip and sugar hording ass to the local post-warlord.

Having a sweet tooth, Lord Mutato sent his hoards to pillage her bomb shelter. As a reward, I was not only allowed to keep my bartered for floutter but also given a bag of chocolate chips, a pound of sugar, and use of her kitchen area for an evening -- after the newly customary asspounding ritual as payment, of course. It’s Lord Mutato’s fave.

In the hours since, I’ve been wincing through the pain and shame while baking my little heart out…

Tomorrow’s the big day! I can’t wait to see the smiles on all the scarred and misshapen faces when I hand out my grandma-ma’s famous chocolate chip cookies!

Spreading joy with baked goods is better than medical supplies!
Sunday Cinco de Mayo 0001 P.A. 8:32pm

That first toothless grin, from one of the pathetic, grunting mutants outside of what used to be either a mall or a school as I handed him (it?) a chocolate chip cookie was all the proof that I needed that this was the right thing to do. Though I was a little taken aback when he shoved the tasty treat into a growling chest orifice instead of the mouth on his face, well, I think he enjoyed it -- and who am I to judge? We all have our bomb and radiation scars and should make the best of them. (To wit, my lack of genitals and nipple arm have come in handy a few times for completely unrelated reasons.)

And that was, with regards to smiles and surprising orifices, the general reaction I had as I delivered my grandma-ma’s cookies throughout my neighborhood, trying to give as much as I could until nightfall, when the marauding biker horse folk come out, at which time, as we all know, it’s just foolish not to be inside -- preferably with a firearm.

Joy is more powerful than a thousand nuclear weapons! Hoorah!
Monday 6 May 0001 P.A. 5:28am

I saved myself a cookie. Not meaning to be selfish, but I still have the sweet tooth from before the radiation poisoning took over. I was going to save it until breakfast, but my nipple-arm started twitching on its own and woke me up crazy early. So, I decided to just scarf down the cookie before going out for my morning jog.

After the cookie, I decided to skip my morning jog and sit for a while. That’s when my flesh started to burn. It seems that there’s still a lot of radiation in the air. My nipple-arm also seems to have further developed its mind of its own and has taken to hitting me in the head. It may be the death of me. But, even if that be my fate, at least I was able to spread some joy through my grandma-ma’s cookies.

All is not lost, Post Apocalyptic world!

Seriously, though, are these interwebs still working? I haven’t gotten any “kudos,” let alone replies from these “Good Samaritan” blogs. Someone let me know if you’re getting this -- LOL! TTFN…