Apocalypse Footwear

Ever since Cormac McCarthy’s novel “The Road” hit the big screen as a Hollywood movie, I’ve been besieged by fans seeking my analysis and commentary. As you know, the book is about a man and his son struggling to survive after a cataclysmic global event, commonly referred to by survivalists as “The Apocalypse,” or TEOTWAWKI (The End Of The World As We Know It).

I promise that many TEOTWAWKI-related issues will eventually be addressed in a series of forthcoming blogs, but I thought it wise to begin with the most important issue of all: Apocalypse Footwear. As you noted in the movie, most people’s feet were covered by several layers of plastic grocery bags. Hmmm…. not cool. Not cool at all.

Those of you preparing for TEOTWAWKI have already stockpiled cans of SPAM… hand tools… tactical bacon…. bottled water… dehydrated meals… but how much thought have you given to your feet? Are you sure you want to wonder the apocalyptic wasteland of a nuclear winter in your Sperry Topsiders? Are you sure those Birkenstock sandals are the best choice for traversing a landscape littered with decomposing corpses and disemboweled human organs?

If you’re honest, you’ll admit that you can do better. To make things easier for those seeking my advice and guidance, I have established four possible categories of Apocalypse Footwear:

Level Zero. I don’t need to say much about this. This includes athletic shoes, high-heels, penny loafers, flip-flops, office shoes, bedroom slippers, or anything else that is only marginally better than bare feet.

Level I. This is a very broad category that encompasses most “general purpose” boots. Blue collar workers, home handymen, and recreational outdoorsmen will have an advantage here… Level I boots are almost certainly lying around their house already. A good pair of heavy-duty steel-toed workboots will do just fine for stomping on zombie heads. Jackhammer wore this type of boot for years, but found them to be heavy, lightly-padded, and the leather absorbed a lot of water when I had to work outside in the rain.

At the upper end of the Level I spectrum are high quality hiking boots, like the ones pictured below. These offer additional advantages and capabilities, as they are designed to convey the wearer long distances through the wilderness. Compared to my blue collar “shit stompers,” these boots offer heavy padding, awesome traction in rough terrain, full waterproofing, and a breathable Gore-tex lining that wicks away sweat. While most hiking boots lack the additional protection of a steel toe, they are definitely a step up from workboots. Stockpile lots of extra shoelaces.

Level II. These boots typically cover the calf, and are designed to be worn by loggers, motorcyclists, and anyone else with a reasonable chance of suffering a traumatic injury to the lower leg in the course of their adventures. These boots typically have steel reinforcements (or other armor) in the ankles and toes, as well as dense padding in vulnerable areas like the shins. These boots are all about heavy-duty protection under extreme circumstances.

I have often mentioned that people who habitually travel on two wheels will enjoy a significant advantage after TEOTWAWKI. One of these advantages is that avid motorcyclists will already own a variety of rugged, weatherproof, protective clothing… such as Jackhammer’s pair of Combat Touring Boots, pictured below. These boots have ridden over 50,000 miles through every imaginable terrain, through every conceivable weather condition. An annual coating of Tectron Sno-Seal keeps them impervious to water, snow, and sleet. Unfortunately, there are a few downsides. These boots are so thick and heavy that it took me several years to break them in. They require annual maintenance (Sno-Seal), and because they are neither ventilated nor breathable it is difficult for me to wear them more than a few days at a time during adventures that involve high temperatures – such as desert crossings.

Level III. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but lately boot technology has made a quantum leap forward. I’m talking about “tactical boots” here, the kind worn by military special forces and/or elite law enforcement teams. These are the boots worn by men who kick down doors and wade through puddles of blood and guts for a monthly paycheck.

Tactical boots are simply wonderful, inside and out – and your best bet if you want to survive during the apocalypse. The better ones have a polycarbonate “kick toe” instead of steel to save weight… these boots are engineered to kick down doors without damaging your foot. They have talon stabilizers to protect your ankles, anti-bacterial and moisture wicking linings, injection molded midsoles, and are heavily reinforced throughout the entire boot. Of course, they are constructed with layers of waterproof-breathable membrane, and are fully bloodborne pathogen resistant. You’ve seen SWAT guys wearing them… they look like this (pictured with 5.11 Sidekick Boot Knife).

Friends, you’re not going to survive very long unless you take care of your feet. Consider the nasty bloodborne pathogens you’ll be sloshing through while scavenging for supplies during a global pandemic. Consider the cold… the heat… the wet weather. Remember too that even a minor injury under apocalyptic conditions and lead to your death. Do you really want to deal with a sprained ankle that reduces your mobility when you’re being constantly pursued by legions of the walking dead? Or hordes of mutant bikers? Won’t you have enough to worry about without dealing with heat rash, fungus, infection, athlete’s foot, or a host of other problems on your feet because you were caught wearing wingtips when TSHTF?

Although this is my longest blog yet, I guess I might as well be thorough and answer one of the questions I’m asked the most. “Jackhammer,” people ask, “how many pairs of apocalypse footwear do I need”? Well… it depends on many factors, such as the anticipated length of the crisis, your intended course of action, and your operating environment. But let’s just say that I keep two pairs of Level III boots in my home at all times… one pair I wear frequently for training, and another other set as a back-up. I also keep two additional sets of Level III boots ready for action… one set tied to my Bug Out Bag (BOB), and a final set in my Bug Out Location (BOL).

While I consider four pairs to be the minimum, more would be even better. When those boots wear out, I’ll be wearing plastic grocery bags on my feet just like everyone else!

Eternal Life -- 15% Off !!

The Christmas season is hard upon us. Actually, the greedy merchants in my area tried to kick off the Christmas shopping season in October (no kidding). Nevertheless, the nightly news is full of sales analyses, with noted economists talking about the financial boon shoppers are bringing to local businesses. Sales are always brisk between Thanksgiving and Christmas, right?

Well, apparently some highly-specialized businesses don’t benefit from the traditional holiday shopping sprees, and they actually find their sales slipping during this time of year. I’m talking about companies that specialize in “cryonics,” which is the cryogenic freezing of humans in the hope of future restoration. For those with no religious convictions, for those who put all their faith in science, cryonics provides the best possibility of eternal life.

One such Russian company, named KrioRus, has tried to remedy sagging revenues with a holiday sales promotion they’re calling the “Atheist Special.” You see, during the Christmas season the thoughts of Christians turn to the birth of Christ… the life of the Messiah… and His kingdom in heaven. This is the holiest of seasons. This time of year is held so sacred that even Senate republicans refuse to work. In the month of December no True Believer wants to think about freezing his head in a bucket of liquid nitrogen.

Hence the “Atheist Special.” Normally KrioRus charges $10,000 to freeze a decapitated head, or $30,000 to freeze an entire body. Both of these options, I hope, are only implemented after the person’s death. But if you happen to be a professed, confirmed atheist, you can save 15% if you sign the necessary legal contracts before December 31. It goes without saying that you must pay all fees upfront to take advantage of this special discount.

If you’re scratching your head right now, consider this. The 2010 median income for a United States worker was $46,326. If you attend church on a regular basis, you are inevitably hit up for a customary 10% tithe, right? Well, that adds up to $9,265 over a two-year period. What is going to benefit you more? Which option is going to give you the best shot at eternal life? Should you invest in two years of church membership, or bank your hard-earned money with KrioRus?



Ultimately, only you can make that choice. All Jackhammer can do is present the viable options and let you make your own decision. It must be noted, however, that while KrioRus is quite willing to explain how your head will be frozen, they are unwilling to articulate how they plan to thaw you out at some future date. I’m assuming this will be a long, slow process… and that it will likely involve a Sears Kenmore microwave on the lowest possible “defrost” setting. After that? Your head must be attached to… to… something… but I’m sure KrioRus will be able to find something to sew it onto.

Remember this is a limited time offer, so my atheist friends must act quickly. Take care, and good luck.

Crier of the House

Much has been made of the waterworks frequently unleashed by the man who will soon unseat Nancy Pelosi as Speaker of the House. I’ve been monitoring the liberal talk shows closely, watching them play an endless loop of video clips showing conservative males shedding tears, including Glen Beck, Rush Limbaugh, President Bush (both of them), and many others. The liberals are clearly trying to turn “The Crying Game” into a sexist issue with protests about an unwritten “double standard.” When a female politician like Hillary Clinton cries in public, they argue, it’s deemed a sign of weakness… yet when men cry their political reputations somehow remain unscathed. This has all the makings of an interesting debate, but I feel there is a more important issue here.

Why do conservative men cry so much? I guess I’m attracted to this topic because I cry a lot. I am unable to talk about highly emotional issues without choking back tears… my children… my wife… my father’s death… the unimaginable debt I owe this nation… my love for Jesus Christ. But I must ask the question: Is our crying a necessary side effect of a warm and caring heart, or a symptom of something darker and more disturbing? Manic depression, perhaps? A manifestation of paranoid psychosis? A product of fear?

I have close liberal friends, and what I enjoy most about them is their unrelenting optimism. They always seem so hopeful, so upbeat, and are so willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Maybe an example would help. I think most conservatives suspect that homeless people are homeless by choice… that they could clean themselves up and find a job if they wanted to badly enough. Conversely, my liberal friends assume that homeless people have been overwhelmed by circumstances beyond their control, and are living on the streets through no fault of their own.

I no longer believe that conservatives harbor the positive outlooks I see in liberals. Deep down inside, we don’t believe that everything is going to be okay. Instead, we are full of fear. Our enemies are all around us, waiting for the right moment to strike. We see hostile countries with nuclear weapons… China on the rise… terrorists plotting against us… streets full of thugs, rapists, and drug addicts. We keep our fists raised, always defensive, always ready to fight. We are so afraid of being attacked we watch TSA agents fondle our wives’ breasts at airport checkpoints. Is it any wonder that tears are just below the surface, ready to erupt at any moment?

My liberal friends go to sleep at night full of the audacity of hope, believing that tomorrow will almost certainly be better than today. There are no tears on their pillows. As for me, I will prepare for bed by checking all the exterior doors and windows to make sure they’re locked. I will make sure the floodlights are working. I will arm my home’s security system. I will open the gunsafe by my bed and verify that my rifle is locked and loaded. When I check on my kids I will see that my son is tense, even in his sleep. He is prone to melancholy moods, and has already asked me to teach him the Way of the Gun. In time, he will become the master of my deadly weapons. When I’m too old and feeble, he will patrol our parameter. He will cry freely. He will vote republican.

Finally, I pray that my precautions are sufficient to repel the barbarians lurking at my gate. I know they must be there, even if I can’t see or hear them. Sleep tight, America.

Very Bad Things

It is time for me to comment on a topic that’s been in the news a lot lately. I’m talking about Four Loko, the strong malt beverage with 12% alcohol content – along with a hefty dose of caffeine. As shown in the picture from my own personal collection, Four Loko comes in a wide variety of fruit flavors including (but not limited to) fruit punch, grape, lemonade, orange, lemon-lime, watermelon, and blue raspberry.

By way of background, www.urbandictionary.com explains that Four Loko got its name because the consumer typically passes through four stages of crazy:

1. Tipsy (loud, stumbling, laughing, etc.)
2. Drunk (stumbling around, slight slur, etc.)
3. Wasted (heavy slur, falling, hitting on fat chicks, etc.)
4. Black Out (no ability to speak, vomiting, memory loss, etc.)

What is in this shit? A comprehensive review of recent media reports produced conflicting estimates. Some claim that a typical 24 ounce serving contains as much alcohol as 2-3 beers and one cup of coffee… other estimates claim that each can contains as much alcohol as 7-8 beers and 3-4 cups of coffee. The most scientific study I could locate was at www.WebMD.com. The researchers found that “one can of Four Loko for a 120 pound woman could raise her blood alcohol level to .21 and that’s almost 3 times the legal limit.”

By this point it should be clear to you why the beverage has become wildly popular with college students. However, there is more. The samples of Four Loko pictured above were recently purchased for $2.18 a can (plus the obscenely high state sales tax). At this price everyone can afford to get wasted, and virtually any girl becomes a very cheap date. Even if you have to pour two cans of Four Loko into her instead of one, your total investment is still under five bucks to get her ready for love.



Drinks with high alcohol content, however, are nothing new to college campuses. What makes Four Loko so controversial is that it is heavily fortified with caffeine, which tends to mask the intoxicating effects of alcohol. Consequently, partiers falsely assume that they’re doing great… the confidence boost that accompanies heavy drinking is amplified even further. Skyrocketing blood alcohol levels, excessive confidence, and dramatically impaired judgment usually lead, predictably, to very bad things.





Many states have already banned Four Loco, and my own state is following suit. The governor has declared that all samples of Four Loko must be pulled from store shelves within the week. The manufacturer of Four Loco has promised to remove the caffeine from future productions. Meanwhile, angry college students have vowed to retaliate by mixing the neutered beverage with Red Bull and other stimulants to restore its kick.

Should we be glad that our government has, once again, intervened to save us from ourselves? You will have to decide that issue for yourself. All Jackhammer can do is present the facts and let you draw your own conclusions. If you’re undecided, I encourage you to attend a college party and slam a few Four Loco drinks for yourself while you still can. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even learn why the beverage is nicknamed “Blackout in a Can.”

Hail to the Ch-Ch-Ch-Chief!

My loyal followers will remember that I have touched upon this topic before. However, like star-crossed lovers, it seems that my destiny is intertwined with the Obama Chia Pet.

I will confess that when I first saw the “Obama” line of Chia Pets I did think that they were the coolest thing EVER. But I refrained from owning one because I considered their existence disrespectful to the Office of the President… and some people have claimed that cultivating an herb garden on Obama’s head carries racist overtones. So, in short, I ultimately declined to purchase one.

Imagine my surprise when my wife proudly presented me with an Obama Chia Pet just last week (she doesn’t read my blog and was unaware that I had already wrestled with this moral issue). She had spotted them in the drugstore, and knowing my deep affection for lowbrow humor she promptly bought one as a surprise gift for me. After 20 years of marriage, she even knew that I would prefer the “Determined Obama” version over the “Happy Obama” version.

So, like a bad penny, the Obama Chia Pet issue has resurfaced again. What could I do? I didn’t want to hurt my wife’s feelings. Furthermore, secretly, in my heart-of-hearts, I still thought that they were funny and cool. So I carefully planted the seeds on Obama’s head and let it rest on my kitchen countertop.

As Spartacus once said, “a man must embrace his fate or be destroyed by it.” As I watched Obama’s head growing herbs over the past several days, I realized that the Determined Obama Chia Pet and I were meant to be together. Every morning when I pour my coffee I find inspiration in Obama’s determined visage… and now I begin each day by stepping into the morning sunshine and shouting “YES WE CAN!”

Reaching Across the Isle

As I’m sure you’ve heard, Tea Party favorite Carl Paladino has encountered a few setbacks on his quest to become the next governor of New York State. Assuredly, 99% of all Americans have already concluded that this guy is nothing but a total asshole. However, I submit that this gentleman has been misunderstood. Carl Paladino is the perennial “missing link” between liberals and conservatives – making him an extremely valuable asset to our nation. We have finally found a man who can bridge the widening gap between democrats and republicans and move this country forward.

It is apparent to me that Paladino straddles the political arena like a Colossus… he has a foot firmly planted in each camp. Consider that Paladino has denounced homosexuality as an “abomination before God,” and condemned the private acts of gays as “sexually deviant.” He blasted his opponent, Andrew Cuomo, for taking his daughter to see a Gay Pride parade. Apparently Paladino thinks the sight of gay men gyrating against each other, wearing nothing but Speedos and jock straps, is an inappropriate spectacle for children. Those of you who have witnessed a Gay Pride parade know what he is talking about.

Paladino’s condemnation of homosexuality as “sexually deviant” has earned him big points from the conservative right, as well as the highly-coveted Tea Party endorsement. However, we must not forget that Paladino was busted for forwarding bestiality emails to various friends and acquaintances. More specifically, when Paladino ran across a video clip of a woman having sex with a horse, he personally thought that the video had enough merit to warrant widespread distribution. This proves that Paladino is a “closet liberal,” or at least a man who secretly harbors strong liberal tendencies. In light of this incident, many democrats suspect that Paladino might be pretty cool after all.

Consider too that Paladino loudly proclaims himself to be a champion of traditional family values. Promising to be the Great Defender of Family Values goes a long way with conservatives… campaign contributions continue to flood his coffers. However, we must not forget that Paladino has maintained a relationship with at least one mistress, probably more, in the great democratic tradition of JFK, Hart, Clinton, Ted Kennedy, etc., etc., etc. Paladino’s clandestine encounters became public knowledge after one mistress had his illegitimate baby, which only reinforces my claim that this man has ties to both parties. Paladino’s rhetoric wins him points with republicans because he tells them what they want to hear… but he is simultaneously able to “reach across the isle” and win points with the democrats by having steamy extramarital sex and fathering bastard children out of wedlock.

In his defensive posture, Paladino borrows a page from republican icon Glen Beck by shouting “I’m not perfect” every time someone calls him out for his behavior. Yet he is also able to reach across the isle to the democrats by endorsing their non-judgmental, morally bankrupt “whatever lifestyle choices you make are perfectly fine” philosophy. An asshole? No. This is the most bi-partisan politician we have seen in a long time… and our best hope for bringing people together and uniting this country. Let’s wish him success.

Where to Shoot a Zombie

I am posting this blog with a sense of urgency, because I have already waited far too long to address this topic and convey this essential information to my readership. Knowing the most efficient way to dispatch a zombie will soon be of paramount importance.

We’ve all seen movies where desperate citizens fire countless bullets into the chests of advancing zombies. They hammer away at “center mass” without effect, emptying their magazines, while the zombies continue to advance relentlessly. If you are one of the movie’s audience members who insists on shouting “shoot it in the head,” then shame on you. You are only watching a movie and the actors cannot hear you. However, if you are educated enough to know that zombies must be shot in the head then you are, at least, on the right track.

Zombies will only be neutralized if their brain matter suffers significant trauma after reanimation. But here is where you must learn that precision is important, especially if you are facing large numbers of zombies and ammunition is limited (which it always is). Forget those English and Japanese zombie movies written by dorks who have never seen a handgun in real life. Your gun will not fire all day long without reloading like it does in those movies. Trust me on this.

A trained gunfighter determined to survive a deadly confrontation will aim for one of two areas. These are the most critical and vulnerable areas on the human body… trauma in either of these areas will likely result in death. The first and most commonly targeted area is the Thoracic Triangle, which can be seen if you envision a triangle drawn between the adversary’s two nipples and his Adam’s apple.


Since body armor has become commonly available, criminals have begun wearing it more often in the commission of violent crimes. Consequently, any police officer will tell you that they also practice targeting the Cranio-Ocular Triangle… that is the target zone you must hit to neutralize an armored attacker or a zombie. In this case, envision a triangle drawn between the two eyebrows and the mustache.

I advise my readers to become intimately familiar with the Cranio-Ocular Triangle and, whenever possible, practice targeting this zone using appropriate paper or cardboard targets at the shooting range. A solid hit to this zone will cause the massive brain trauma necessary to render the zombie incapable of continued aggression. Conversely, hits outside of this area will have limited effects. Aim carefully, and make every shot count.

The Way I See It

One of the most enlightening books I’ve ever read is called “A Framework for Understanding Poverty” by Ruby Payne. In the book Payne talks extensively about the different world paradigms harbored by the poor, the middle class, and the rich. Most importantly, it talks about how the most pressing issues confronting us today are, for lack of a better term, middle class problems.

Consider two biggies: Taxes and health care. There are government services for the poor, such as Medicare and Medicade… most states have implemented supplemental healthcare programs for the poor as well. And the rich? If you had a couple million dollars in the bank, would you care that healthcare premiums just increased by 13% (average) across the nation due to Phase 1 of Obamacare? Or would you even bother paying $500 a month for health insurance if you were wealthy enough to dispatch a million-dollar illness with your checking account?

Taxes affect the middle class in much the same way as healthcare. The poor pay virtually nothing in taxes. And the rich? The Average Working Joe who uses TurboTax knows nothing about juggling offshore investment accounts in the Cayman Islands… the advantages of a Swiss bank account… or how to buy gold in Singapore and then sell it in Rome. You know you’ve arrived when your taxes are done by a law firm full of tax attorneys.

The way I see it, the pig on the bottom represents the middle class, and the pig on the top represents the government. I thought it might be helpful to put this relationship into terms that even a farmboy can understand. That’s just the way it is.

Oetzi the Iceman

The following is an excerpt from "When I was Kid, This Was a Free Country," by G. Gordon Liddy. This passage explains one quick and easy way mainstream scientists determine if the remains of ancient humans were those of a slave, or those of a free man:

“When they found the man they called ‘The Iceman’ in the Italian Alps on 19 September 1991, he had been dead an estimated five thousand years. Yet he was all there, preserved perfectly by the cold, complete with his possessions. The Iceman was not the first human found in a preserved state ages after death. In Scandinavia and England, peat bogs had yielded similar remains. Examination of the bog finds showed that the dead had been slain, some by garrote, some with a hole in their heads from a puncture wound. These men had only their clothing with them. They were captives, perhaps, or criminals who had been executed. What the bog men had in common was that they were not free.

The Iceman, by contrast, was found in possession of state-of-the-art weapons. He had a six-foot longbow, the same size used by English bowmen more than four thousand years later to defeat heavily armored French nights at the Battle of Agincourt. It was a remarkably powerful weapon when one considers that the Iceman was a mere five feet two inches tall. His ammunition was fourteen arrows held in a beautiful deerskin quiver. He had an ash-handled, flint-bladed dagger and something that astounded the experts – a nearly pure copper Remedello-style axe, something so advanced for five thousand years ago that National Geographic commented, ‘It was as if the tomb of a medieval warrior had yielded a modern rifle.’

All of which was evidence that the Iceman was a free man. Since the dawn of history, free men have been armed with the most up-to-date weapons capable of being carried by hand. Arms are the mark of a free man.”

Who You Gonna Call?

This post pertains to the latest wave of reality TV shows that feature desperate, sleazy, sex-starved housewives. Many of the housewives I've seen on TV lately dress (and act) like retired porn stars. Since I figure they probably pass the time between "Jerry Springer" and "Oprah" by reading my blog, I thought I would share a bit of information they might find interesting. On my way to work I saw a van from "Schwartz Plumbing Co." I'm sorry the photo is a little grainy. I took it with my blackberry while driving down the road, and I was laughing so hard my hand was shaking. But if any desperate housewives need someone to work on their plumbing, I suggest they call this man. He says he has a tool that can fix anything...

Retard of the Year

As you may have heard, 49-year-old Donna Sykes decided to visit her daughter Jesse at UNC-Chapel Hill and spend the night in her dorm room. Why the hell not? Jesse would be the coolest girl on campus with her mother sleeping in her dorm room. Who wouldn't want to date a girl like that?

In case you didn't see it coming, Mom rolled out of her bunk in the middle of the night -- and ended up dying of a head injury. Maybe college dorm rooms weren't designed for 49-year-olds? I have a feeling Darwin would love to comment on this issue.


UNC-CH was established in 1789, and this is the first time a retard died of a head injury while sleeping in a dorm room. Nevertheless, the university's reaction was swift and decisive: The administration is spending approximately $250,000 to outfit all 8,500 beds with safety rails... your tax dollars are hard at work.


I agree that college life has become more dangerous than it used to be. The modern "keg stand" doesn't look like a good idea to me. But I assume that sooner or later someone's mother will sustain a neck injury trying to do a keg stand at her son's fraternity party, and all kegs will be banned from campus.

Accidental Porn?

I don't know... maybe my mind's in the gutter. But this free sample mysteriously appeared in my mailbox, and I'm not sure it's appropriate to be mailing these things to people. After all, some of them might be under 18.

Maybe it's okay, but if I created a tasty new treat I don't think I would call it a "Big Nut Bar." And then there's this:

This is supposed to be a WD-40 knock off... but does it really need to be called "Lube Job Super Penetrant"? Maybe the creators were trying to go "one up" on WD-40 by suggesting that their product not only costs less, but has additional uses.

While the references above might be considered accidental porn, I'm pretty sure that the good folks at Richbrau were trying to make some sort of innuendo when they named their beer "Big Nasty Porter."

Again, maybe I'm just taking these things the wrong way and everything's completely innocent. But a "Big Nut" or a "Lube Job" or a "Big Nasty" sounds like things I would try to get if I went on a date with a hot girl. I'm looking forward to hearing what you guys think -- please post a comment and let me know if these products lead your mind in the same direction (or not).

A Great Vacation House... UNLESS...

Last fall we traveled to Boone, NC to do the usual mountain stuff. We marveled at the leaves changing color... ate some good food... did some shopping... tipped over a few cows... but none of those activities are relevant to this posting. I'm writing to pass on an important safety tip that you probably haven't considered, but may someday save your life.

I'm assuming that most of you reading this blog have invested a huge amount of time and effort preparing for the zombie invasion that is to come. If you've been slacking and your preparations are running behind schedule, shame on you! But again, that's not the point.

You may have turned your primary residence into the ultimate zombie-proof fortress, but is that really going to help you if the outbreak occurs while you're on vacation? When you're planning your weekend getaway, do you automatically book the first rental you can find? Such haste could cost you dearly. Jackhammer is warning all of you to consider the possibility, however remote, that a zombie plaque could explode and spread like wildfire when you're trying to chill away from home.

Consider, for example the lovely rustic cabin rented by my in-laws during our mountain excursion. Blissfully unaware of the potential zombie menace, the fools selected this cabin for its spectacular view and remote location. While the "remote location" aspect of this dwelling is indisputably positive, its inherent drawbacks are too severe to be overlooked. This is a frontal view of the house:

As you can probably tell, this is a three-story house build on the side of a very steep hill. The back of the house, pictured below, gives a better perspective.

As you can see, things aren't all bad. The ground falls away sharply from the rear, which would greatly slow -- but not stop -- the uncoordinated shamblings of the walking dead. And yes, there is a small bi-level deck on the rear of the house. This excited me as well, since the boards could be pulled up fairly easily if we suddenly needed wood to barricade the doors and windows.

But these final photos, below, portray the extent of our vulnerability and the cause of my concern.

In short, the house was built to allow easy ground-level access to the first and second floors. Even worse, the lip of front porch roof is only about six feet off the ground -- well within the reach of an average-sized zombie. Also, if the zombies arrive in large numbers, it would be ridiculously easy for them to "ramp up" to the nearly-flat porch rooftop -- followed by an easy stroll through the panoramic third floor windows.

A house with ground-level access on all three floors is virtually indefensible against a zombie hoard! For crying out loud, what the hell were the builders thinking? If you need any further evidence that the architect had his head up his ass, just look at the glass walls of the front vestibule, the all-glass exterior doors, and the giant picture windows lighting every single room!

I spent the whole weekend biting my tongue, agonizing over whether or not I should educate my in-laws about the clear and present danger we might be facing. Neither the loaded Glock under my pillow, nor the sharpened machete in my closet, provided any comfort in the midnight hours.

You are correct in thinking "well if he's writing this then obviously he survived the weekend." But just because the zombie outbreak didn't happen that particular weekend doesn't mean the possibility wasn't there. Like I said, it could happen at any time -- even when you're on vacation chillaxing with a 40. So why take foolish risks by renting an indefensible location? How did the Germans manage to bomb Pearl Harbor successfully? How did the World Trade Centers fall on 9/11? Because we were caught napping with our pants down, that's why.

So let's learn from our past mistakes and be prepared. Vigilance is never punished... only rewarded.