Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Concerning My Friend

I know this girl... who thought I didn't know her...

I was fairly sure it was her, but I thought it was her once when it was not.

Perhaps once I thought it was her when it was. But I didn't want to know and still don't. If it was, all is forgiven - I do not hate her.

I think she worries about three other people, but she doesn't need to - at least when it comes to me.

To this person, you wrote:
I am following my dreams like you told me to do a year ago... I love him anyway and I am really happy being by his side

How can I be anything but happy for you? I want your happiness (just ask someone else I know - happiness is kinda a goal for me, and she gets jealous...) and if you're doing what makes you happy, then I can be happy.

I do not hate you - never. Things that perhaps you have done, perhaps.

But I'm still offering my friendship, but that's all, for though I am not currently able to persue my desire, my heart and my honor belong to another.

If you want to be friends, then friends we shall be. I have not ignored - merely followed advice or request.

If you truly want me to eliminate traces, let me know, but I might be too lazy.

And also enjoy life.
Your friend,


Tuesday, January 29, 2008

From nobody to nobody.

I don't know who you are. Nice poem though. If it's important to you... let me know who you are?


Sunday, January 27, 2008

I See Dead People, pt. 2

My car.

A beat up Nissan Maxima that we purchased for $150 from my dad's agency. You do indeed get what you pay for, and I got what I paid for.

But with some minor repairs, it ran fairly well. Into the back seat went my load of weaponry and tools. I thought about it for a moment - where should I go first? My neighbor had some guns, but I didn't think they had any shotguns. And trust me, if it's zombies you're after, or more accurately, if zombies are after you, it's shotguns you want.

Looking around my neighborhood I saw no cars, or movement, which wasn't unusual, but for some reason it creeped me out at that moment. Maybe it was the fact that I just shoved a pipe through the face of some zombie. After a moment or two of indecision, I decided I would check my neighbors house. They had lived across the street from us for as long as we had lived in the house, and their son was a friend of mine, until he had died the year before in a car crash. Bastard. He still pisses me off about that. We had even talked about fighting zombies together and what we'd do if they came. It had been a bright sunny day, and randomly we heard the loudest thunderclap. We jumped about three feet in the air and ran inside. But now he's dead and can't help fight the zombies. Bastard.

Shaking myself back to reality, I looked at my neighbors house. It was a two story affair, in a color that could really only be described as "pumkin". Above the front stoop was a balcony that came out of the master bedroom - we had once used it to climb onto the roof. I hoped that wouldn't be needed today as I made my way up to the front porch. Slowly, crouched, with muscles tensed to spring, my pipe spear held in front of me, I climbed the stairs. As I made it to the top, the front door swung awkwardly by the top hinge, splinters and broken glass scattered everywhere. Son of a... I whispered to myself as I freed the sword I carried strapped to my back. How I wished for a sawed-off shotgun. I knew they kept a few guns here. That's why I came.

Listening carefully, sniffing the air, I slowly stepped inside, trying to avoid the worst of the glass. Crunch... Crunch.. Crunch... I couldn't avoid breaking some glass as stepped inside their house. In front of me was the hall that led to their laundry room and garage. To my right was the dining room and kitchen. To my left was the living room and the stairs to the second story where all the bedrooms were. As I paused, a faint scent entered my nose. It was one I had become intimately familiar with a few short moments ago. Rotting flesh. I inhaled gently, moving my head from side to side and realized as my stomach hit my shoes, that it was coming from my left. I quickly moved to the doorway and checked for movement. Nothing. Keeping the end of my pipe in front of me, I stepped into the room, quickly sweeping to the right, my pipe pointing up the stairs.

The stench was stronger.

The pipe would probably be useless to me up the stairs, unless I encountered something on the stairs or in the hallway. I leaned my pipe against the wall where I could grab it easily if I had to come down the stairs quickly, but not where I'd trip on it. Pulling my sword out I held it at an angle across my body. I didn't know how much pain these things felt, but hopefully I could slash and stab before they got me.

I moved up the stairs quickly but as quiet as I could. At the top of the stairs I paused to listen. Crunch... Crunch... Crunch... that sound was not broken glass. I quickly identified the sound as coming from Jessica's room. I wasn't sure if these zombies could hear, so quietly I turned the doorknob and pushed open the door. I almost puked.

There was blood everywhere.

And right in the middle of it was a rotting creature with long brown hair, gnawing on something red and curly about the size of a small dog. That's when I realized it was a small dog. Specifically, Mouse, their really annoying dog. The zombie looked up at me. Her eyes were glowing blue... and then she growled. It sounded like a dog about to attack. Then she did, scrambling on all fours. I don't really remember what happened, but the only explanation is this: I quickly crouched down and as she sprang at me I must have exploded upwards, driving the blade through her neck and out the base of her skull, my adrenaline plunging the sword into the ceiling. I don't remember the process, just blacking out for a moment, only to wake up with her growling and gurgling. Thankfully it wasn't someone I recognized. Her eyes still blazed with that eerie blue light, and she struggled to grab me.

For some reason that made me angry and I kicked her in the chest as hard as I could. Apparently the sword had severed most of her neck, because her body flew across the room, landing on a lamp. Her stomach popped like a tick, scattering that blue gel across the room. Looking up at the sword, the handle was still surprisingly clean. Then her head fell down.

This is my story, so I won't tell you that I was so startled I jumped, okay?

I kicked her head over towards her body, and reached up and grabbed the handle and tugged. And tugged. And then I jumped up and put all my weight on it. Son of a...! I terminated. I decided not to put too much effort into pulling it out, and instead quickly looked around the room as I pulled my belt knife. Well that's two down, how many to go? I heard some whimpering and looked down. There was Mouse, struggling to get to his feet. In disbelief I wondered, How did he even survive?

My question was answered when he looked up at me and I saw his glowing blue eyes. Before he could move, I brought my knife down through his neck, twisting sharply. His head popped off and those eyes faded. I wiped my blade off on the carpet and tried once more to dislodge my sword. No luck. Carefully I opened the door to the master bedroom, knife at the ready. Nothing moved. Quickly I dropped to the floor and checked under the bed. Nothing there either. Clearing the room and the bathroom took only a few moments. That was when I took the time to look at the gun cabinet. Three shotguns, an SKS rifle, and a large caliber bolt action and a .22 semiauto were the inhabitants. Quickly I checked the drawer for ammo. A great surprise was a Colt 1911 .45 with several boxes of ammo. I also found a few bricks of .22 shells, several boxes of shotgun and SKS shells, and a few other assorted amunition. I pulled out one of the simplest looking shotguns and the pistol.

The shotgun was a double barrel, the pistol a semi-automatic. I checked the actions to see that they both worked, loaded the shotgun and pistol, tucked the pistol into my belt, put all the guns and ammo on the bed, and picked up the shotgun. Stepping out into the hall again, I quickly checked the remaining rooms. They were all empty of anything moving, and anything particularly useful to me at the moment.

I moved back into the master bedroom and tried to lift all the guns and ammo, I realized it would take me at least two trips. More time, but I would probably need these. I grabbed all the guns with their various straps, and loaded them up. I decided to put everything near the front door so I wouldn't have come back all this way. I carefully made my way down the stairs, shotgun leading the way. I propped all the guns up outside the door and then made my way back for the ammo, keeping my shotgun with me. Then I stacked up the ammo. Then I realized there was probably canned food in the pantry, so I quickly piled up as much as I could reasonably move quickly. Cursing my stupidity, I realized I could have used the garage, and then I could have pulled my car in closer. Oh well, no matter. I quickly made my way back across the street to my car, on the alert for anything out of place. Everything looked fine, so I started my car and parked across the street, quickly loading my guns, ammo, and food into my car.

Again cursing my lack of thought, I quickly ran in side and grabbed all the blankets I could carry, and tossed them into the car, too.

Back in my car, I checked that my shotgun was safely stowed, and my pistol was readily available.

Shifting into drive, I thought Wal-Mart, here I come!

Labels: , ,

Saturday, January 26, 2008

I See Dead People!

Of all the times for a zombie attack, it had to come while I was watching "Sixth Sense"!

It happened a little something like this...

It was your average Tuesday afternoon. I had just come home from classes at college. We were learning about dirty bombs in my Chemistry class. Pretty cool stuff - all about radiation and that stuff. Neither my parents or younger brother were home, so I just grabbed a bowl of ice cream and headed upstairs to watch Sixth Sense. I'm sitting there on the couch with my back to the door, right? Dressed in my old Hobby Lobby polo style shirt, cargo pants, boots and ascot, just winding down after a day of classes when my olfactory was assaulted by the most hideous scent I have ever smelled. It was like someone DIED! Of course I guess someone did.

You know, in all those movies, they never prepared me for how bad a zombie would smell. He wasn't even halfway up the stairs before I just about choked! Got up and walked around the couch, and just as soon as I stepped into the doorway, that kid says, "I see dead people!" And there lurching up my staircase was a dead people. Do they prefer to be called dead people? Is that the political correct term for them or something?

Not that I care, I was just curious.

So this corpse, he had about half a head of hair, and only one arm. His skin was peeling off like he had a horrible sunburn... The first thing I thought was There is no way this is actually happening! My second thought was Oh heck, this is gonna be sweet! That is, if I could survive long enough...

I quickly made an assessment of my available weaponry. Upstairs? I thought I was screwed, and then I remembered the pole that we use for hanging shirts on. Whipping out my pocket knife as I moved back into the room and to the right, I reached up and grabbed the bar, cutting it free from the straps that held it to the ceiling. I turned around just as the zombie came through the door. I'll call him Fred, I thought. Then I yelled, "Die, Fred!" as I speared him in the face with the hollow pole.

The sensation was not unlike piercing a watermelon with a pipe. I only know this because I tried that later. He gave a gurgling growl, and then began vomiting some glowing blue... gel is the best word for it. I pushed him back up against the wall, pinning him there with my pipe as he convulsed and then... died? He stopped moving in any case. Kicking Fred's carcass off the end of my improvised spear, I felt my ice cream come up. After I vomited all over his carcass, I began taking stock of my situation.

My house wouldn't be easily defended. I'd need a better location, preferably one with guns. Lots of guns. At least I had my swords and some knives. I creeped downstairs, my pipe spear at the ready. I could hear my heart beating as I warily made it down the stairs to my living room. Two pianos on one side would make any fight here a close quarters one. And with my spear I would need open ground. The first thing I noticed was the front door was wide open, which told me how Fred got inside. I turned right and headed down the hall towards my bedroom, first checking my brothers room, my sisters (who was out of state at college) room, and the bathroom. Nothing.

Quickly I grabbed my case of knives, my bag with my rain gear, some rope, and both my swords. They were slightly functional, and I hoped they'd do the job. I also hoped I wouldn't need them soon. Slowly I made my way through the kitchen, and out the door to my car. It was abnormally quiet outside. Quickly I stuffed my load in my car, keeping a belt knife and a sword. I ran back inside and locked the front door, and grabbed some food, a bottle of apple juice, and my knife sharpening supplies. I had a feeling I'd be needing those. I locked up and left a hastily scribbled note.

Mom, Dad, Bro - dead (or re dead?) zombie upstairs. I'm safe, I've gone to get tools. Try my cell. I'll be back here at 6:30 sharp!

To be continued...

Labels: , ,

Monday, January 21, 2008


So I'm typing this post using the Dvorak keyboard layout. What that means is that I actually do less work when I'm typing. has a neat little comic story about why the Dvorak layout is better than the qwerty layout.

It's taking me a bit to get used to it... most of the keys I use are on the home row! So I'm moving my fingers a lot less.

You should definitely check out the DVzine!

Labels: ,

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Updates? I Must Be Crazy!

So... I'm going to try to update this thing at least every Sunday... just in case anyone cares!


It's Been A While...

... since I've written here. I really haven't had much to muse on, that I felt worthy of the blarg...

So quick update:
Class has started again,
Chem teacher is pretty cool,
Computer Science professor is nice and class seems fairly fun,
Philosophy prof isn't bad either.

S'bout all, I know this isn't actually anything worth reading... but it's something to read! :-D


Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Missing someone