Say, hypothetically, we meet on the street.
“How long could you last in a power outage?” hypothetical you asks.
“Um, why the fuck would you ask me that?” I reply.
You say something about whatever, because I’m not listening anymore, and then I kick you in the shins and steal your wallet.
Oh calm down, you are not even a real person. Hypothetical. Key word.
But later, after all that didn’t happen, I get to thinking. How long would I last in a power outage?
Forever, bitches. Because I’ve got motherfuckin’ survivalism.