laststandonzombieisland

”

To all of my friends and loved ones,

I have come to a bit of an epiphany, and my heart feels burdened to share it with you so that should things come to pass in a certain fashion, you will not be surprised, nor afraid for my well-being, but will instead know that I am in my right mind, and that my thoughts and actions are premeditated and resolute.

I have come to accept the cold hard facts of the matter, and after analyzing the situation to its fullest extent and begrudgingly owning up to the truth, I must admit to myself that in the event of a zombie apocalypse, I would be nothing more than a fat and slow snack for the zombie horde.

At best, I would slow you, and our fellow survivors down, and at worst, I would get you killed as you tried to protect me as I lay out of breath and unable to move as the hungry zombie scourge comes ever closer.

It is with these self-evident truths in mind that I have decided to prepare for that event.

I intend to get fully armored up.

Should a zombie breakout occur, and I tell you to go ahead and leave me, know full well that I mean it. I will be encapsulated from head to foot in the toughest teeth and fingernail resistant armor that I can possibly find. I will have at my disposal hand weapons (I will leave the ammunition for you non-bacon-wrapped humans) with which I will attempt to defend myself, and a couple grenades for tight situations. I feel that my chances for survival will increase greatly if I just accept the cold hard facts that I am a tubby bastard, and that I have little chance of survival if I have to run all over the damn place, and honestly, I wouldn’t want to live in that kind of world anyway, as I hate running more than I hate zombies. Unless its for cheeseburgers. That is an acceptable reason for running, but only with the stipulation that it is no more than one city block, and they had better be really good cheeseburgers.

So when I tell you, go ahead and run ahead, just let me know where to meet up with you later, should I survive.

Also know that in the event that I get turned into a zombie, that while I will be a heavily armored zombie, and therefore more difficult to kill than other non-armored zombies, that my head will be fully encased in a sturdy helmet with a mouthguard, and my hands will be gloved in thick gloves, so even if I come at you, I will not be able to bite or claw you and will likely just moan at you reproachfully from under my helmet. You are free to kill me at this time, or you may keep me around as a good luck charm, or let me wonder the city in my non-threatening new existence. I leave that up to you.

I am so glad I got the chance to share this epiphany with you, and hope that the zombie apocalypse never comes to pass, but if it ever does, I implore you to remember: aim for the head.

Thank you my friends,

Noneya Damn Biznazz”

Now thats classy…