Everyone needs a zombie plan....

And after watching Zombieland on dvd, I've realised I need to fully devise my own plan. The bare bones of the zombie plan has always been devised. I mean, everyone has one. But now I realise that a disease could come around and turn us into flesh-eating angry lumps of flesh intent on devouring us all regardless of race, gender or religion.
So, we'll begin with the back story. A virus has gotten out of control and has now infected most of humanity, including my family (sorry, but I'm not having these in my plan on account that groups of people will slow me down.
Here we go.

• Escape Blyth immediately. Via the car. find secretive spot with about a months worth of food rations. weapon of choice at this stage - Cricket bat
• After the first month of infection (at this point the infected humans will begin to die out) begin to slowly make inroads into Blyth. Stopping at my old school for basic weaponry (Javelins, shot putts, more cricket bats)
• Raid Asda, but first make sure that the store is clear by playing a guitar at the front of the shop, to attract remaining Zombies. and eliminate them. Ruthlessly.
• Set up camp at Asda, barricading myself in with shopping trolleys and other items, however leaving one emergency escape available (When in doubt, know your way out). At this point I will begin to pay my homage to the Dead Rising videogames by using duct tape and nails on pretty much everything I can get my hands on. Weapon of choice at this point - gardening tools, rakes, clippers, etc. Asda don't do a sport section which is where all the fun weaponry can be had :(
• Start to leave for the centre of Blyth, on foot. As the roads will be congested from all the people attempting to flee and failing. Currently travelling light, one satchel bag, with one change pair of combat shorts and a light t shirt. the rest of the bag being filled with light, but effective weapons.
• Enter Blyth, check obvious places for supplies, then go into Argos, find baseball bats, guitars, etc. Anything heavy. And hunt for food before the last big push.
  
• Drive to down south, stopping at service stations along the way for what's left of supplies and do relieve myself.
• Down to Dover, whilst avoiding all the big cities (more people = more zombies)
• Get small fishing boat.
• Travel to Calais, or some other French port.
• Live rest of life travelling Europe whilst raiding gun shops (because Europe is easier to get guns in than the UK)
• ????
• Profit.
  
  Here endeth the Zombie plan.

Oh, and if that fails, get a cricket bat, run to a nice open area, whilst being chased by zombies, and scream my lungs out whilst swinging my trusty cricket bat like a motherfuck. And die screaming "DIE YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!" Like a boss.
CAW

We Are The Undead

Well, I nearly am. Given the fact that I feel like absolute shite these last few days.
I was stricken down by an illness which still escapes my ill-educated diagnosing skills (much like House. Yes, I went there Lewis, I know you're reading this.)
What basically happened was

• I was cold, despite the fact I was shivering
• I was lethargic, and would not even get up for some food(which brings me to my next point)
• Loss of appettite
• Headaches
• Aching limbs.

Never fun. However I got past the initial illness through my good friend, Jack Daniels MD.
During this week I have had an absolute shitter. I shant go into the details, but all the, small things, that can go wrong did, and it made me rage a tad.

I have started using a new site that I'm not sure if people will have heard of, it's called tumblr, and I will probably be using this to spout some mini-bites of hatred, whilst my blogspot becomes hopefully more recognised and gains more attention. Provided my tumblr doesn't get raided with gore after Operation Overlord

Just a small blog this week, I'm not really in the mood to write. Mainly because I'm trying to find a link to watch two black men beat each other up to the extent where Nick Griffin spunks in his pants.

Let's Do This Shit.

Untitled

My tooth is fixed.
Words cannot express the happiness which I'm feeling right now ! :D
Despite having what feels like half of my original tooth drilled out and replaced with a synthetic replacement, I'm feeling pretty damn chuffed with life now.
Cancer bats is without a doubt, one of the highlights of my year.

• Photo taken with Liam Cormier
• Stage dived during "Hail Destroyer" followed by excessive crowd surfing.
• Drunk lots of vodka to numb my (then painful) tooth.
• Wore combat shorts and a t shirt in mid November weather
• Almost had my ribs broken, my mp3 and phone lost forever and my sternum smashed when Vera Cruz's guitarist stepped on my chest.
  
  Oh, and one more thing, the dentists could be made a lot less daunting if they give you earplugs to drown out the drills.
  
  Let's do this shit. CAW

Hail Destroyer.

3 Shots of vodka and 1 JD and diet coke
Hmmm, I'm pissed off at my mother and I'm listening to hardcore punk music, yeah, great idea to calm down.
This ontop of a week where a piece of bone no smaller than .5 cm in diameter has caused me just as much pain as a broken collarbone.
Broken teeth aren't a nice thing, especially when this piece of tooth has been broken for about a year now, and has slowly decayed away due to your diet consisting of twice the RDA of sugar. At least. Still, the wonders of the NHS should have me up and slowly rotting my gums inside out within a few weeks. It should be ok, seeing as how I'm not supposed to have sugary stuff for 2 weeks. If not, I will have to be content with mixing the painkiller cocktail which I have now patented

Clove Oil - To numb the tooth/gums
Ibuprofen - To kill some of the pain
Vodka - To kill the rest of the pain.

Whoever said mixing alcohol with pills is a bad idea is lying. All things in moderation ;)

First spartans match of the seasons today (for me) remembered how much I love non-league football. The chants, crude and humourous, just the way I like them
" You can stick your Lincoln Sausage up your arse"
"Football league, you fucked it up"
and the evergreen "Oi, keeper, have you burped ? because I can smell spunk"

Ahh, gotta love Blyth Spartans AFC
An odd weekend by my standards, given that I am alone and ther other half is away to South Holland. Therefore no usual conversations with her. Tis odd. Tis not cricket.

Work this week provided me with a hilarious, if not wrong, thought. An old woman was complaining about the government cutting some benefit she recieved. It struck me with the thought of "Pet, you're so old (she looked about 80), you'll probably be one of the first to go in the good ol' winter cull, therefore your complaining about lack of benefits come springtime is invalid."
Wrong, but oh so right.

Cancer Bats tomorrow, I'll probably be dead, if I have the choice, my last words shall be




"The Game."

Let's do this shit. CAW