Honestly, if you were last person alive, how long do you think it would be before you gave up on wearing clothes all together? Granted, first few weeks would be a shopping spree, with styles ranging from head to toe Gaultier to the best armageddon soldier I can be. But after months of searching for other survivors to no avail, I would soon wonder why I needed to look so rad. I give it a year before I start really letting myself go and wearing all flannel. I'd probably migrate someplace warm, San Diego's nice, but it gets hot, and flannel gets clingy. I'm sure my first nude foraging foray is exactly when I'd finally find the remants of humanity, but I think that kind of sets the terms for our relationship. I'll be the naked one. And if they happen to be naked as well, then I'll know they're my kind of people.