If I’m stocking up for what lies ahead, I’ll tell you what I WON’T be filling my cupboards with, that’s for sure.

In the middle of our last decade, tales of doom and the impending end of the world were all the rage. One of the biggest was a cable TV series called ‘The Walking Dead’, where a disease saw humans turn into zombies, then go on rampages looking for normal humans to devour. Of course, there was no internet, no electricity, no comforts, it was like living in ‘Little House On The Prairie’ times again. All the unaffected humans battened down the hatches, raising their fences, arming themselves and stocking up on supplies. They would run the gauntlet under the cover of darkness to get to abandoned houses, grabbing cans of beans and soup, warm jackets, jerry cans of water and fuel, if they were lucky tins of freeze-dried coffee. But have a guess what they didn’t go for ? … yep, toilet paper.

In all the seasons and episodes of this (and the other) Zombie Apocalypse shows, never did we see the humans-facing-extinction grab a roll of Sorbent as they looted an empty house or old servo. Torch batteries? Yep. Matches? Sure. Just about anything in a can that had been preserved. Of Course. But something to well, you know, when the number two is done? Nope, not even once. Things got pretty serious on the zombie shows, with the regular humans shooting it out or fighting to the death in their attempts to grab supplies and stay alive. But they were fighting over bottles of gas, cans of corn and bags of flour, not double ply. Sheesh, what’s wrong with everybody?

Not to make (too much) light of the current plight of our world, I was walking around the supermarket yesterday getting the things I need for a ‘normal’ week ahead, (past the empty aisle of you know what, seriously?), and I got to thinking about what I’d actually grab if everything went to pieces. Well, maybe not the two minute nuke warning or the Zombies taking over, but the alert that said we had to lock ourselves away for a month or two. I had to laugh as I walked past four different types of cans of Baked Beans, which would probably be my number one. Not in a Warney kind-of way, but they’re a meal in themselves and I reckon I could hold out for a month on a diet of legumes. If we assume we’ll have no power, then I’ve got my big gas bottle, the top of the line esky and 6 bags of ice to last me at least the first week, rice and pasta as well as the sauces to go with them, and if I managed to grab a giant sack of flour I could make my own bread and pizza bases. If I’m stuck out here in Millthorpe, I’ve got the vege patch, the chooks, and a tank (now full J) of water, Things would be ok. Of course, a month locked away without beer, coffee and chocolate would be worse than facing the zombies. So, whilst everyone else is in the other aisle stocking up on dunny paper, I’ll sneak down aisle 9 and grab every Turkish Delight they have, a few kilos of vacuum sealed coffee and then across to the grog shop for as much amber ale as they let me stick in the ute.

Just like Mick Dundee said in his famous movie when he first encountered a bidet … “It’s fer washin’ ya bum” … I’ll think I’ll get by at my place with no rolls of the white stuff, zombies or no zombies.