Panic

I am not one to panic unnecessarily but I think the time has come to admit we are fucked. And not kind of fucked, fucked like a passed out rabbit wearing suspenders at a furvert convention. The seas will boil, locusts will swarm, dogs and cats will live together IN SIN.

We are running out of fig rolls

Hoards of middle aged Irish men will soon be wandering the aisles muttering to themselves in the guttural Romero growl “FIGS”

The next stage these shuffling zombies will start looting shops in search of their rolly fix

Mark my words society will collapse as the mid life crisis brigade start breaking into houses on the vague hope of finding fig rolls.