Are you prepared for a zombie apocalypse?  I sure as hell am not!!  If zombies attacked, I had better hope I have a strong man nearby because I’d be toast.  Seriously.  I will likely hide in the corner and scream like a little school girl.  I keep saying that once I buy my new house, I’m going to build a fall out shelter.  Well, not me… but whomever I can trick into doing it for me.  So far, all I have is a BB gun, and some kitchen knives.  I hope everyone likes ramen noodles and kidney beans.

I had a very real scare the other day as I was walking into my house.  Purse on the left shoulder, baby on the left hip, I start hearing what sounds like a rooster being violated by an elephant.  Assuming there are no elephants in my neighborhood, I look up to see where the noise is coming from.  It’s a man, or at least, what used to be a man across the train tracks, doing what appears to be yard work.  He continues screaming and making these god awful noises.  That is, until he saw me.  He then drops his rake, turns his body, arms to each side, and stares at me for what seemed like an eternity.  He was scoping out his prey.  He was looking at me like all he needed was a side of mashed potatoes and gravy.  He definitely wanted to eat my brains.  Realizing that my keys are in my purse in the most difficult spot to reach, I start to panic.  I swap hips and dig out my keys in a frenzy, all the while, he is still plotting his kill.  I find my keys and look up only to realize he’s gone.  HOLY FUCK.  I did not know zombies could move that quickly.  There’s only one thing going through my mind at this moment.  ”Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Open the motherfucking door!”  For sure he was on his way over to have some brain stew.  I get the door open, lock the vestibule, double deadbolt the door, and pray that this keeps the zombie out.  So far, so good.

The zombie was out there again today.  Steven said he was singing.  I asked him to go tell him he was writing an exposé on lawn care and ask him if he could take his picture, but he won’t.  What a Debbie Downer.  This entry would be so much better if y’all could actually see the zombie that is stalking me.  I told Steven that it was his fault I didn’t have the proper zoom lens on my camera and that he owes it to me, but still… no.  So, blame him for not being able to see the zombie.  I haven’t given up, though.

Meanwhile, I figure perhaps we need some supplies.  I found this really awesome bone-cutting carbon steel blade that is hand made in America (Montana to be specific) for all of you Occupy Wall Streeters.  It’s called The Hellion.

I could totally kick zombie ass with that, no?  Anyway, it’s on my wish list, along with the camera lens and maybe some assault rifles.  Here’s to hoping I get my attack coyote soon.

No related posts.