This guy is building an Apocalyptic Bunker in his backyard

This thread could have been posted in 1958* or 1973* or 1998....

*Except we didn't have an Internet then.

People have been preparing for the Apocalypse or Millenium for over a millenium.

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This guy is building an Apocalyptic Bunker in his backyard by stout

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Reminds me of those paranoid frickers on that show Doomsday Preppers.

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This is no different and is looking very cool.

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Admittedly it does look really interesting and entertaining.

He is obnoxious.

I'd just throw a container in a hole but guess that wouldn't be as much fun..or work.

reminds me of the late 50's when the Nuns had us hiding under our desk's for a possible nuclear bomb.

Unless he is planning on pissing off the Chinese or the Russians, I doubt he needs to prepare for a direct hit.

It's more a fallout shelter than anything.

And in any case, it comes across as a "because I wanted to see if I can do it" project than a serious attempt to build an end of the world shelter.

I didn't feel the need to plan my weekend around 5 small gummybears. But if you fail to plan, you plan to fail.
It began with a noticeable change in the viscosity of my saliva. Within minutes of consumption, my mouth had filled with a thick foamy slime. Though I was in a cool climate controlled room a salty sweat broke out, and I felt my heartbeat quicken as my body threw itself into fight or flight.
The animal noises broadcasting from my pelvis were an ominous warning of the violent acts that were to follow. I shouldered my way into the bathroom, clawing at my belt, moaning with pain. The smell came first. It started sweet, almost tangy. That was quickly overpowered by a cloying chemical perfume.
The first volley of feces hit the water like soda cans and nickles. The resulting splash drenching my bottom in foul brackish water, but this was quickly becoming the least of my worries.
After another moment, the noises in my core hit a fever pitch and I was struck rigid with pain. The sweat was now running into my eyes, but the room had turned ice cold and my hands began to spasm.
I felt an insidious burning flooding my escape hatch. I gasped. Hot yellow poison began spraying from my rear, changing in pitch and echo as the stream of diarrhea whipped around the toilet bowl, creating a nightmarish Doppler effect that can only be appreciated in hindsight.
My legs fell asleep sitting on the toilet. I couldn't have stood up if I wanted to.
Wiping was a no-go. Toilet paper simply became a vile paper mache'. My hands were quickly soiled. A full blown shower was needed, and all of my towels had to be burned.

Reminds me of all the I Am Scared Of NOLA morons

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Reminds me of all the I Am Scared Of NOLA morons

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That makes zero sense and are you really trying to turn this thread into something about race? Seriously?

I'd like to know how much he spent on everything