If you have a gun, shoot 'em in the head. If you don't, get yourself a club or a torch. Beat 'em or burn 'em. They go up pretty easy.

I used to think, man, it'd be great if the undead rose from their graves. Just woke up, started clawing at the rotted wood ceilings of their 6 x 3 worlds, their coffins, then kept on grasping and digging through the dirt, through the grass, through the bed of dead flowers and floating discarded Hardees wrappers over their graves. Shuffled off through town, past the mortician's and past the Scieszinski's and through the square and past Casey's and past the high school . . .

And what the fuck am I thinking? That would still be fucking awesome!

I think this desire to see the undead eat the living is born mostly of boredom. What would shake things up more than seeing that old fucker next door (more on this next paragraph) eaten by ghouls?

(The old fucker thing is, a few weekends back, while I was away from the house, some old bastard came over and told Wes to tell Amish to move his "eyesore" of a car from the curb of 5th Street, that there was an ordinance in WDM about not moving cars off the street after 48 hours, and he would call the cops,. And Wes, doing the right thing, was polite and said okay, Amish will move it. Which is good, because had I been there I surely would have lost it, and either removed the man's jugular for him or reminded him that Amish's car had been there for about 15 hours, and why didn't he get the fuck off my lawn before I had him arrested? Arrgh, I have anger problems. I probably would have yelled some obscenity, tried to be cool, and just stalked off in a flurry of confusion and embarrassment.)

Fashion!

Beep beep.

Seriously, though. I'm in for zombies showing up.