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Renegade Chef: Surviving on goulash and the Grateful Dead

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I have a lot of dried pasta lying around. It seems I stocked up pretty good during the panic-depressive Millennium, which is now, quite frankly, ancient history. When the world didn’t shut down, I forgot about my stash of noodles.

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Costco came to town in a perfect storm, just in time for the Mayan prophecy to play out. In fact, legend has it, Mayan medicine-man Zuba Kirkland told the elders: “It will rain fire and the horsemen of the Apocalypse will smite all creatures in their way - and mangos will be ridiculously cheap at Costco, but you have to buy 9 of them.”

I was persuaded by the medicine man to stock up once again - noodles, rice in 50-pound bags, peanut butter in 100-gallon barrels. These Mayans knew what they were talking about. I bought nine mangos.

I keep it all in my fallout shelter, along with a variety of canned goods, staples, gas generator, night-vision goggles, golf clubs, a guide for edible wild plants and a pack of Camel Straights in case I want to start smoking when Doomsday is just around the corner. 

Oh, and a gas-mask, a package of double-stuffed Oreos, my Grateful Dead record collection and a secret recipe for goulash. I don’t know what else to do with elbow macaroni. I’m not quite sure what to do with my albums, either, since I haven’t owned a turn-table since 1980.

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