3:40 P.M.

You know, with me writing a blog on the internet and all, you’d think I would be expecting people to actually read this stuff. So why was I so totally shocked when survivors showed up?

Let’s think about that for a minute……No idea?

Still nothing?

How about this.

More idiots in MY. DAMN. APARTMENT!!

As if the sandwich thieving, CD tossing bastard who-shall-not-be-named, but makes great grilled Cheeses, wasn’t enough.

And to top it all off? NEW YORKERS.

Normally I’d be all, yeah~ New York! Wooo! But this is the apocalypse and I’m out of Mayo.

Manduca meis erat. If my college latin classes weren’t a complete waste of time, then latin speakers everywhere’ll be chuckling and nodding along or gravely insulted. Whatever.

Right. Back to the Yorkers.

So it’s tow women, a whiny 19 year old punk, and a guy with more brains down under than above. Which also explains his great hair. Shit for brains makes great fertilizer…….

If this keeps up I’ll have to switch to less fattening, more deadly and annoying addictions…….

……..Like smoking.

Q & A

So! I actually got some questions! That’s like….mind blowingly weird. Don’t you people have better things to do that read this stuff? Like…oh I don’t know……..Running from the flesh eating corpses that want to eat our brains…not to mention flesh?!

No?

Okay then! On to the questions!

Questions One: Can it get anymore awesome?!

Ummmm. Yeah. It probably could. You know….if I had a tank of a submachine gun with endless bullets………or a flame thrower that doesn’t mean I need to give up my hairspray. There is no way in Vegas that my fluffy mess of a hair-don’t would ever stay in place while fighting zombies without hairspray. Seriously. Other than that?

………………Nah. Most likely not.

Question Two: What was your initial reaction to the zombie apoc.? Was it like, “holy shit I’m gonna die?” or was it more like, “Fuck yeah, free sandwiches?”

………………I think I like this questioning questioner……yep….I heart you for being awesome.

So. As I’m sure you’ve already read, oh loyal blog reader, I found out about the Z-Day Blitz after watching the Paperboy chowing down on my favorite gossip rag neighbor lady…………sooooo m< ‘initial reaction’ was; “OHSHITOHSHITOHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT………FENCE!!!!!! OHSHITOHSHIT……..CORNER!!! OHSHITOHSHIT!…DOOR!!!!…………Safe! Booyah!”

Followed by much laughing at random moments and making myself a sandwich. Now that I think about it though……….Z-Day means free sandwiches………….Holy Mayo and Mustard that’s AWESOME!

This means it’s time for me to grab Earl by the nose-hairs and make a supermarket raid……again……….

…………..FF Sandwiches are worth it. Totally…………

Btw, Random Fact? Zombies no likey the blunt force trauma that don’t kill ‘em. It makes the mad. HULK MAD………..HULK SMASH!!!! …………..Sorry, couldn’t resist.

9:15 A.M.

Sorry about that folks. Had a moment of weakness in the face of great anatomy.

Went to my stolen apartment, (wu-baby’s) and had a deep, meaningfull conversation with my empty Mayo jar. After much whining and deliberating I have made a decision!

Clean undies and my shampoo is so much more important than some sexy abs…..this means war!

So. I armed myself with a pair of tongs, the sharp, metally, and slightly pointy kind. And headed back to my apartment to bang on the door. The landlady wasn’t too happy about the noise, but eh. All shall fall to the power of my tongs!

………..Then the bastard offered me grilled cheese and a round of ‘snipe-the-walking-dead’…..seriously. Who could resist?

Not me. Nuuh. I racked up six sandwiches and a 23 headshot score card! Gamers FTW!

To the M.C.

So. I’ve been asked to write some shizz about me. Well, seeing as the walking cadavers have cleared off and stopped rapeing my doorbell, I guess I have a little time. Don’t you feel special?

Yeah. Thought not.

So! ummm. Mayo’s the best thing since sliced bread, which isn’t that hot btw, and I’ve been derpived of it! UTTERLY DEPRIVED! I can feel my me-ness slipping away! The horror….a world without me……..

Seriously. It’s traumatizing.

The bastard might get a kick out of it though. Freckled Sandwich thief.

oh…heheh. Right. Back to the Mayo.

So, why’ve I been deprived? Well, why don’t you go to the supermarket then, since you’re so cool? I ran out of nails like…three hours ago. So nailguns out as a weapon. I guess I could take the shovel………..ewwww.

Oh I’m so gonna need a shower after this. Seriously, I’m gagging at the thought. That’d be like catapulting maggoty, grey and pinkish-red spagetti all over the sidewalk.

……………..The things I do for Mayo..

7:00 A.M.

That awkward moment when you brave the evil undead to avenge your Evanescense Discography only to realize the dastardly sandwich/apartment thief has sexy abs……..

……..has been achieved. God I suck.

11:59 P.M.

Earl the Idiot’s been blaring MY Metallica collection at full volume for the past five hours. Now I love me some delicious Guitar-ness and heavy vocals, but it’s starting to get annoying……..

Wait….did that Ass just throw a CD out my window?! SUNOFAMUNCKINGEATER!

……….eeeew. Well….at least the lady from 104 noe has a shiny head decoration….girl needs some glam since being munched by Paper boy.

Another CD just flew……..I hope the Landlady gets that bastard, ’cause if she doesn’t I’m going medievil!

13:24 P.M.

Earl has passed Go twice and collected enough stupidity to enter my shit list. What a man. And yes, that was sarcasm. My brilliant plan to use the sandwich steaing bastard was turned around on me, fascinatingly enough.

Let me explain.

I, in an attempt to avenge cutie, Smacked the bastard with the back end of a cleaver I randomly found lying around. This would have been awesome and great and all, except the zombies wandering around in the storefront heard and, true to human nature, came to see.

Dickwad was heavier than the sweaty guy at the bus stop that made a habi of ‘falling’ into my bus seat while I was still in it every Friday. ugh. Powercrunches don’t help against suffocation via Fatty-free-for-all!

Fat bastards aside, the point is I almost worked off the few Mayo-y delicious calories I’d managed before the hideous crime was commited while dragging Early-burly back to my turf. Stupid woke up half way there yelling and hollaring loud enough to make a red-neck green with envy.

Who ever said concussed men can’t run? Yes, I am laughing my ass off here.

At any rate, idiot Earl followed me, along with our little snake chain of taggalongs, all the way back to my apartment and then had the gall to shove me back out my own door! ….Prick……………..hope he eats the moldy sausages in the fridge……

So I went to go visit my good buddy Wu, the Heroic Nommer of LandLadies everywhere. Poor Wu bear wasn’t looking too hot though. Kept trying to bite me, as if I needed to be eaten. Please…girlfriends ain’t that desperate!………yet. So I did a favor to women everywhere and pushed him out the window.

Best Idea I’ve ever had. The perv has coldcuts and pineapples stashed away. Canned food FTW!

And Mayo…….god I almost regret shoving perv out the window. His prick was icky, but his foodz delish! May he rest in chewy pieces.

………….Ohgodsandwichyesssssssss.

9:00 A.M.

After a night like that (mental scarring. eeeeeew old people nomming eeeew) I decided that a sandwich was sooo on my list of addictions. My mayo fix was life-preservingly necessary! Seriously.

Anyways, so I went to visit cutie at the Deli, most of the stuff’s gone to the maggots and cuties not so cute anymore, but eh. Nicknames are hard to come by. ‘specially good ones. Highschool sucks eternally. ugh.

So I was making myself a magical sandwich with delicious mayo (mmmmmmmm) and some dried ham stuff I found in the freezer where I played ring around the rosie with cutie for a bit, when suddenly some dickwad puts a hole through my compadrés head! What kind of maniac carries a gun in this day and age!?!

………stupid question…………..NEXT!!

Right, so Dickwad’s name was apparently Earl. Great name for a great piece of meat that I’ll be using as zombie bait later. He was ever so charmed at my attempt a flirting….

……..Bastard ate my sandwich.

12:17 P.M.

See what I did there? No? Okay.

So someone’s ringing my doorbell like it’s the end of the world out there. Heheh.

I shuffle my tired butt outta bed and make to open the door, ready to unleash some unholy sleep-disturbed, anger management style whupass, and find my next door neighbor, Wu Kong or something like that, nomming the landlady’s extremely saggy ti-….er…..boob. Yeah.

Mentally scarred for life. So I naturally do what any sane person would do in such a situation. That’s right. Politely, and quietly, close the door…..and blog that shit.

Say bye bye social glory Wu-Fong-Whatever-Tong.

10:00 A.M.

Right. That was ugly and way more running than what people would call a jog. Totally the paperboy’s fault. He apparently decided that my last boyfriend was WRONG and I really was good enough to eat. Heheh.

Okay, bad joke. So, why am I online blogging instead of calling the police and making a generally safe place to hide out till the crazy ass goes away? Could have something to do with the Newcast just now. Either it’s April 1st or the world just got taken over by flesh eating cadavers. Joy.

Zombie Apocalypse? Check. Me in my apartment with all my life necessary stuff and my trusty laptop? Checkcheckcheck! Sandwich from the cute guy at the Deli and maybe a phone number? Nope.

Cutie’s a meat eater. He likes his steak alive and screaming. FML