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March 18, 2011

hookersorcake:

I’ve always had reoccurring nightmares about zombies but lately my dreams have taken a turn for the sexy.
Hot Zombie 3-way - Zombie Orgy
and the neat thing about zombie sex is it doesn’t matter if they’re a boy or a girl or a canned ham or whatever - zombies by their very nature are full of holes and in the middle of a blood orgy any orifice will do.
The bummer is that the sex isn’t very good, not that it doesn’t physically feel good. No the sex feels awesome, its just that… I dunno the zombies don’t really seem that into it ya know?

The doctor tells me the bad news and afterward, I feel like having a thousand drinks but don’t. I maybe want to cry, but instead I go to Whole Foods and buy two huge slices of vegan chocolate cake. It doesn’t taste very good but I think that’s because I’m sad and scared and, really, kind of pissed off.The zombie problem stopped being a problem years ago, but ever now and then, you’ll see on the news about a new attack somewhere in Reykjavik, or some other place that sounds made up. Weird when you hear about it, but uncommon enough you never worry about it, you know.There’s not been a recorded zombie infection or attack in the United States for almost ten years. On the internet, people think the still happen but the government keeps a tight lid on all of them. There’s always a conspiracy. If the people attacked turn into zombies, the FBI or CIA or whatever take ‘em away along with whichever zombie decided to attack and incinerate them. That’s what they do, incinerate zombies. It’s the only way to know for sure, the government said since the first zombies surfaced in Cuba years ago. It’s the only way to know they’re gone for sure, I mean.God. I used to think, what if it all happened again? Used to be bad enough before the zombies with gangs and rapists and random shootings and elderly drivers out there. Then nature added to dead people everywhere to much on all of us.I used to think I’d never see one.But I did.Two months ago.I was walking home, just a typical day. Classes were boring so I left and walked home and when I walked down the alley I take as shortcut, what I thought was just a sleeping bum leaped at me feet. I tried to fight but couldn’t get away and I stumbled down and he was on me, heavier than I thought he would be. And I saw its face, lipless and only one eye in its socket, its skin more pink than gray. But it wasn’t moving to bite me but I screamed because that’s what you do when you have a zombie attack you.It tore at my clothes and I didn’t notice the policeman shouting at it until he shot it several times. It wouldn’t get off me. I kicked and kicked and nothing happened and it managed to yank off my jeans and panties off and I screamed for help. I could feel his clammy skin all over me. I could feels his legs on my legs, I could feel his hands trying to tear off my sweater. It was as if the thing wanted to hug me until I died. Finally the policeman tackled him off me and managed to get his gun and aim and fire into the thing’s head and it stopped moving. I tried to cover myself and to stop sobbing.The cop was saying something into his radio and an abulance came moments later and the city’s coroner. The coroner guys took the zombie away and at the hospital the cops asked me a ton of questions. The doctors inspected me up and down, making sure it hadn’t broken my skin anywhere. I was fine but frightened and sad, but happy nothing happened to me. After a couple days in the hospital, my family and friends and co-workers came and I was so glad to see them. For these last two months, more doctors and blood tests and therapy and more questions from police and the Department of Homeland Security spooks that came to see me before I was released from the hospital. They sent me a questionnaire to fill out, over one hundred questions to see what I might’ve done to trigger the attack and how often I frequented that alley, stuff like that. They were trying to find out who it might’ve been the accompanying letter said, and also if I might’ve attracted it somehow.Through all this, I managed to stay sane and get back to my regular life until my doctor called me in to talk about my last battery of tests.The first question he asked me when I first saw my doctor was, “When was the last time you had your period?”And I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t remember.And then he told me the bad news.[this is a mess but i thought it was funny and am sleep-deprived. hit up hookers or cake for more awesome!]

I’ve always had reoccurring nightmares about zombies but lately my dreams have taken a turn for the sexy.

Hot Zombie 3-way - Zombie Orgy

and the neat thing about zombie sex is it doesn’t matter if they’re a boy or a girl or a canned ham or whatever - zombies by their very nature are full of holes and in the middle of a blood orgy any orifice will do.

The bummer is that the sex isn’t very good, not that it doesn’t physically feel good. No the sex feels awesome, its just that… I dunno the zombies don’t really seem that into it ya know?

The doctor tells me the bad news and afterward, I feel like having a thousand drinks but don’t. I maybe want to cry, but instead I go to Whole Foods and buy two huge slices of vegan chocolate cake. It doesn’t taste very good but I think that’s because I’m sad and scared and, really, kind of pissed off.

The zombie problem stopped being a problem years ago, but ever now and then, you’ll see on the news about a new attack somewhere in Reykjavik, or some other place that sounds made up. Weird when you hear about it, but uncommon enough you never worry about it, you know.

There’s not been a recorded zombie infection or attack in the United States for almost ten years. On the internet, people think the still happen but the government keeps a tight lid on all of them. There’s always a conspiracy. If the people attacked turn into zombies, the FBI or CIA or whatever take ‘em away along with whichever zombie decided to attack and incinerate them. That’s what they do, incinerate zombies. It’s the only way to know for sure, the government said since the first zombies surfaced in Cuba years ago. It’s the only way to know they’re gone for sure, I mean.

God. I used to think, what if it all happened again? Used to be bad enough before the zombies with gangs and rapists and random shootings and elderly drivers out there. Then nature added to dead people everywhere to much on all of us.

I used to think I’d never see one.

But I did.

Two months ago.

I was walking home, just a typical day. Classes were boring so I left and walked home and when I walked down the alley I take as shortcut, what I thought was just a sleeping bum leaped at me feet. I tried to fight but couldn’t get away and I stumbled down and he was on me, heavier than I thought he would be. And I saw its face, lipless and only one eye in its socket, its skin more pink than gray. But it wasn’t moving to bite me but I screamed because that’s what you do when you have a zombie attack you.

It tore at my clothes and I didn’t notice the policeman shouting at it until he shot it several times. It wouldn’t get off me. I kicked and kicked and nothing happened and it managed to yank off my jeans and panties off and I screamed for help. I could feel his clammy skin all over me. I could feels his legs on my legs, I could feel his hands trying to tear off my sweater. It was as if the thing wanted to hug me until I died. Finally the policeman tackled him off me and managed to get his gun and aim and fire into the thing’s head and it stopped moving. I tried to cover myself and to stop sobbing.

The cop was saying something into his radio and an abulance came moments later and the city’s coroner. The coroner guys took the zombie away and at the hospital the cops asked me a ton of questions. The doctors inspected me up and down, making sure it hadn’t broken my skin anywhere. I was fine but frightened and sad, but happy nothing happened to me. After a couple days in the hospital, my family and friends and co-workers came and I was so glad to see them. For these last two months, more doctors and blood tests and therapy and more questions from police and the Department of Homeland Security spooks that came to see me before I was released from the hospital. They sent me a questionnaire to fill out, over one hundred questions to see what I might’ve done to trigger the attack and how often I frequented that alley, stuff like that. They were trying to find out who it might’ve been the accompanying letter said, and also if I might’ve attracted it somehow.

Through all this, I managed to stay sane and get back to my regular life until my doctor called me in to talk about my last battery of tests.

The first question he asked me when I first saw my doctor was, “When was the last time you had your period?”

And I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t remember.

And then he told me the bad news.

[this is a mess but i thought it was funny and am sleep-deprived. hit up hookers or cake for more awesome!]