I’m ready for the coronazombielypse

Before the administration muzzled its infectious disease experts and ordered them to funnel anything they say through the U.S. Department of Don’t Worry ‘Bout It, they kind of let it slip that this whole coronavirus thing just might get worse before it gets better. Or as President Trump explained in remarkable detail, “We’ll see.”

Fortunately, talk radio star Rush Limbaugh put everyone at ease on his February 24 show by explaining, “The coronavirus is the common cold, folks.” That’s very reassuring coming from a guy who decried the “nanny state” that frowned upon his love of cigars before he developed stage 4 lung cancer and the same Rush Limbaugh who was admittedly addicted to OxyContin in the early 2000s, ultimately leading to his arrest for his illicit efforts to acquire enough pills to somewhat ease his “back pain” or to instantly kill an elephant. Fortunately, he was able to overcome the setback with his unique ability to be white and rich, qualities for which he would ultimately be handed the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

On the other end of the spectrum are those who see the end of the world or at least a zombie apocalypse coming. Personally, I prefer a zombie apocalypse along the lines of “Zombieland” — the first one in which Bill Murray was still alive .. for a bit — instead of “The Walking Dead” type of zombie apocalypse. Just in case it’s the latter, though, I’m crafting a Negan-style weapon — a bat with nails sticking out of it. It’s a plastic wiffle ball bat, which is all I could find in the shed, but it’s really all about intimidation.

Somewhere in the middle of all this craziness is where the coronavirus likely festers. Experts recommend that we be prepared to hunker down in our homes for a couple of weeks in case of a local outbreak of the virus or zombies. So, I’m preparing. Oww! Sorry, I just grabbed the wrong end of the wiffle ball bat. This thing is dangerous!

One of the suggestions is telecommuting. Check! One of the perks of my job is that I telecommute three days a week — something my co-workers 50-something miles away cite as one of their perks. Out of the goodness of my heart and concern for others, I’m willing to make the sacrifice of working from home five days a week. The dress code is much more flexible at my home office — today I’m wearing my biz-casual pajama pants and invisible shoes. Even better, the only person who comes into my office to ask for anything is a cat named Sadie. The answer is always “No!” by the way.

Stocking up on food is important. I’m heading to the store now to stock up on the nonperishable goods needed for a couple of weeks of meals. Excuse me for a second. “Alexa, add tequila, triple sec, lime juice, margarita mix, vienna sausages, more vienna sausages and some of those white cheddar cheesy poofy things to my grocery list.”

See, you can’t just run out to the grocery store during a coronazombielypse. Nor should you go to the pharmacy around sick folks. Thankfully, I’ve already covered that with my grocery list that includes all the ingredients for my medicinal margaritas.

It’s also not a good time to invite visitors into your home. Again, I’ve already got this under control. The houses up and down my street have “Welcome” signs on their front doors. We have a wooden sign on our front door with a message in classy brush script: “We don’t visit.”

Some people fear that packages ordered from Amazon might include a free pack of coronavirus in there, but that’s only if you’re not an Amazon Prime member. You shouldn’t stop ordering from Amazon, though, because then Jeff Bezos wouldn’t be able to afford his zero-percent tax rate. However, I’ve warned my wife that ordering from Amazon could kill us both. We get a brown Amazon box on our doorstep every now and then — such as on days that end in “Y” — so I’ve told her that everything Amazon sells is made in Wuhan, China, by children at the Wuhan Coronavirus We’re All Gonna Die Soon Quarantine Center, better known as the WCWAGDSQC.

Of course, if an outbreak gets bad enough in your area, consider wearing a mask. I’m wearing a Pennywise the Clown mask from those “It” movies. I’m not sure how well it filters viral bacteria, but it keeps people a safe distance away from me.