So here we are. Me, the quiet misanthrope with an affinity for destroying others happiness. Her, the obnoxious spunkster with a hankering for bad music and weak trends. How did we end up here, how did we make it. Why haven't I hit her with the break I carry. The jibber jabber that spews from her face is a never ending tirade of nonsense and gossip on things that matter no more. And even if those things were around anymore, they'd be so far outside of my interests, I'd ask her to take a jump off of a very high bridge.

That's us, what an odd pair. And this is what we do, we smash the faces of our enemies. They seem to be growing in numbers. Ever since the outbreak, there have been fewer and fewer.. hrmm.. humans, I guess. These things we break, these things we destroy, they are not human. They are wasted, cracking prisons. They hide a deformity, a disease. I don't know what it is, but things just aren't the same anymore. It started just as it did in the movies. One or two weary bodies, come into a decent size town, bite the fuck out of some kid, or some innocent, and spread the virus. It moves faster than the movies showed. Maybe a few days went by and it had consumed so much. My home town, the county, the state, the country. Europe was fucked faster and harder than we were. I haven't heard anything of any survivors over there. Poor chaps. This great rock we named home. This rock we abused. This rock we took for granted. It breathed brimstone back on us man. In the worst way.

Me and this twit, we consider our purpose to be protectors. Seekers of the unfortunate, others who breathe, others with a heart beat. We find them. We save them if necessary. Of course this takes force. We show them how to survive. How to mend wounds. How to sustain. How to take back humanity and wash this demon off our streets. We have shanty towns made out of gated communities. It's the one way we've found safety. And it is nice that so many rich had tried to create these tiny fortresses to keep the varmin out. If they saw how we were using them, maybe they'd be proud of what they created. To bad we weren't given the time to show them how to protect what they had created, they were sitting on safety and the dead things came right in and wiped these unprepared dipshits out. Ho humm, time goes on.

We are gathering more survivors that are down with our cause, our ethos. We started as two, I think the recent count put as at over thirty. I was torn now, as our unanimous commander, on what to do with our team. Some have requested we create a base, a campus of our own, somewhere to dub home. And others are asking for us to take this fight to war status. To hunt, house by house, street by street, these zombies. To bash the brains out of every head. To stop this thing from spreading. To round up weapons and create an army of destroyers to purge this out of existence. It wasn't a hard choice. I wanted something for my kids to grow into. A home.

And the one way I saw them having a home, is without this scourge. So here we stand, me, the twit, and our army. On the rise of this day. Armed with bats, bricks, the few guns we have found, and pride. We can do this, we can send this back to it's cage. We can wipe this out. And it starts now.

It starts where I am. And ends where life was easy. Life before responsibilities and learning how shitty life is.

Tomato Soup Grilled Cheese

Wieners and Cheese! Ive told so many people about this. I want to open a resturaunt called 'Wieners and Cheese!'. The only thing that would be on our menu is gourment variations of grilled cheese, and gourmet editions of hotdogs. The theme song would be epic, during the commercial there would be slow motion pull aparts for grilled cheeses, slow motion hot dog topping sessions, and the song.. oh the song "we.. we... wieners and *ticka ticka* cheeeeese".

All of the dishes would be famous, or obscure quotes from various movies. Things like "You feelin lucky punk" "There is no spoon" "When this baby hits 88 miles per hour". And you have to say the name. If you say "Id like a grilled cheese with tomato" you will get our standard processed american cheese on white bread barely toasted and you will be charged 8 dollars for it. Order the hotdog wrong - tofudog on a slice of bread. Also 8 dollars.

My problem is I dont know how to kickstart things.. otherwise id be sitting pretty in my bistro delux.

steal this idea and ill kill you


just saying