Every fourth weekend, I leave town. my wife thinks I'm in the Army Reserves. Actually, I'm driving to Watauga Lake and working on my raft.
Basically, I can foresee three basic post-apocalyptic worlds:
1) A hellish, post-nuclear holocaust world somewhat like Barstow
2) Escaping to outer space and searching for a new homeworld
I'm really doing this for my wife. I don't think she'd survive the first two options.
Podcast: The Man Who Sold the Moon, Part 06 [FIXED]
12 hours ago