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Jun. 13th, 2007

Got home. I made a mistake, leaving my mom and brother here alone.

I had to kill my brother, but he wasn't really my brother anymore. If there weren't a mass zombie invasion going down now, I'd consider raiding his stuff - but, another time, another place.

Right now I've gotta figure out what the hell I'm gonna do. I hear people are holing up at the college, hiding in the bunkers and such. I'm gathering whatever guns and ammo I left here, and I'll see about going there. They might need armaments. Then again, they might all be dead. I don't like the idea of cowering in some dark space, filled to the brim with frightened, crying, screaming people, praying for salvation. I'd rather be out in the open, where I can get away when I need to.

All I know is, I've gotta get gas in the truck first. I don't know where I'll be heading. I'll try to pick up as many survivors as I can.

I definitely won't be going to Tulsa any time soon.

I've given up hope this is just a nightmare.

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Jun. 13th, 2007

Updating my progress.

Still no sign of Amber. I hope she's with Candi or something, and that they and baby Cody are safe.

I gave in to my urges and lit up a cigarette in my mom's truck. I'm about to head back home; I hope she and Jonathan are still alive. If not... Well. I'll deal with that later.

I hit someone on the way over here; I didn't stop to see if they were alive or dead. Rule number one in situations like these: If you hit someone with a Chevy Silverado going sixty, if they were alive before, they probably aren't now.

I've had the radio on, but it seems everyone is either dead, or just as clueless as I am. I kept hearing reports, telling everyone to stay calm. I doubt calm will be helping us any time soon.

I'm shaking. I'm shaking bad. I keep hoping that this is all just a horrible nightmare that I'll wake up from, but it isn't.

More updates to come. If you stop hearing from me, well. Just pray I shot myself. It'd be the better way to go.

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Jun. 13th, 2007

Shouldn't say I'm surprised it's come to this. I've got a gun right here by my hand all while I'm typing this. Fully loaded, too. I'm thankful I haven't had to shoot anything yet, though my brother has been acting a bit strange ever since he came home. He hasn't said a word to us yet; he just keeps hiding in his room. I've been keeping an eye out for anything strange, but so far, nothing yet.

I live in a small town, but it seems even we've been infected. Infected with what, I don't know, but I'm starting to feel like supporting cast in some bad horror flick - I'm definitely the supporting cast, and seeing as I'm the painfully awkward fat chick, I'll probably die first.

I've tried calling my friends, with no luck. I'm worried. I don't know if I should try driving across town to find Amber. I don't know if she's even alive at this point.

So I think I'm gonna do what all the heroes in these situations do: The stupid things, like driving out on the streets, where the... zombies are out, with nothing but a shotgun (but I'm smart enough to take almost every damn gun I have with me) to my name in order to save people.

I hope I can make it back alive.

Blog Like It's the End of the World.

Tags:

Oy. I'm bored.

TV Meme.

- Bold all of the following TV shows of which you've seen 3 or more episodes.
- Italicize a show if you're positive you've seen every episode.
- Asterisk if you have at least one full season on tape or DVD
- If you want, add up to 3 additional shows (keep the list in alphabetical order).

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All of you should read these two articles: "Attack of the Homicidal Stepford Students" and "The Unfair Witch Project". Very disturbing, especially if you're a writer.
George Takei is roughly five hundred degrees of AWESOME.

No, seriously.

I now want to have a shirt that says "GLAZED IN MANSWEAT" on it. Even though absolutely no one will get the reference. Still.

I love that man. He's just so damn... cool. Like your favorite gay uncle. "Let it be known, that one day, when you least expect it, I will have sex with you!" C'mon. He's just fantastic.

As an aside, I plan on making a shirt that has a picture of Spock on it that says "Spock is my homeboy." Why? Because that would just be awesome. Because I'm just nerdy enough to wear it. In public.

May. 26th, 2007

I just bought some dip pens and an inkwell, and I love them both. So incredibly much. India ink is love. I got them because I've been doing a lot of drawings with pens (all abstract, and using lots of ink), so I figured it was best to just spend the... six bucks for both the pen and the ink. Wal-Mart, my friends. I had to go out grocery shopping, anyway. My family gave me no help bringing the groceries in, because my parents were asleep and my brother's a dick. (No, seriously. He was outside, in some random chick's car parked on the street. He could easily see that I had a shitload of groceries to carry in.)

Meh.

I'm hoping Blockbuster Online sends me new movies soon. I'm so lame and have the first season of Star Trek TOS at the top of the queue. I can't help it; that show is so full of crack. And who could pass up some good Kirk/Spock subtext? Not me.
I'm such a nerd. I set up the Spock answering machine message as my voice mail. XD NERD.

Talk about sad and pathetic.
Surely, this is a sign of Apocalypse.

I... oh fuck. What the hell is that, how old is the author, is the author mentally challenged, and what kind of God could allow that piece of "fiction" to exist?!