If Harris wins, ideally I’ll do all the things I’ve been putting off until after the election. I’ve been meaning to update the address on my driver’s license, the registration on my car, and several other things like that.

I live in a deep red state; I’ve been paranoid about getting them done, for fear of my voter registration “happening” to get lost in the process. And then I’d finally have an excuse to never visit my hardcore right-wing parents ever again, because my mail won’t be showing up at their house anymore.

If Trump wins, I’m not going to update anything. I plan to flee. I don’t have the means to leave the country, but I’ve got friends in blue states who are happy to take me in. That’s better than nothing, I guess.

I stand by my opinion, which is what it is. An opinion.

That being said, only 2 seasons of The Last Ship had 13 episodes, the rest only had 10 each.

So 56 total epsodes, versus Battlestar’s 76 episodes + 4-hour pilot miniseries + 2 TV films.

Or The Walking Dead’s 177 episodes, just for the original series. Which blows up to 336 episodes and counting, if you include sequels and spinoff shows.

Opinions may vary, but at least from a numbers standpoint, The Last Ship has less potential for filler episodes. If you really wanted to, you could stop watching the show after season 3, and get a complete-enough story. But the show’s main selling point is the action, and it delivers on that front all the way through.

The Last Ship: The crew of a US Navy destroyer is faced with a new reality as a deadly plague wipes out nearly all of humanity.

Basically, mix together the good parts of Battlestar Galactica and The Walking Dead, and distill it down to 5 seasons with no filler. It’s one of my favorite binge-watches.

I’d remove my personal need for sleep, making it completely voluntary. But I wouldn’t tell anyone about it. I could use an extra eight hours of free time every day.

Oh yeah, same exact vibe I’m going for. I willingly own a Cadillac Cimarron.

Well, my “if I won the lottery” fantasy only requires a few million. One by one, I’d tell my mates to come check out my new place, which turns out to be a condo at Circuit of the Americas. While we’re overlooking my collection of mint-condition shitbox cars that have no reason to be preserved, I’d hand them a check for enough money to wipe out their debts and buy a house… along with a non-disclosure agreement.

Then I’d disappear for a while, taking a road trip around the country without any sort of financial or scheduling concerns. Just show up in a random city, spend a few weeks seeing all the sights at my own pace, then moving along whenever I feel like it.

Going from millions to billions, I doubt I’d deviate from that plan too much. Once I’ve got myself and my mates set for life, I guess I’d set the remaining 4.9 billion pounds aside for any impulse buys, like an F1 team or a couple hundred politicians.