ZOMBIE DREAMS

Hi All,

Tonight's post will be a departure from my usual Black Album ramblings. Not that I don't still have a lot to say about my first novel and even more to say about my second novel which is about a week away from going to the editor (Yippee Ki yah). But, as I sit here jonesing and counting the days until the return of arguably the best show on TV: "The Walking Dead," my thoughts turn to the nightmares I have been having lately and the whole subject of dreams in general. 

I think I'm the odd man out when it comes to nightmares. 

You see... I enjoy them. 

Especially zombie dreams (I call them dreams because the word nightmare has a negative connotation, and like I said, I enjoy most of my scary dreams). Usually, after a double dose of "The Walking Dead," I'm almost guaranteed to have a zombie apocalypse nocturnal smorgasbord.

I love zombie movies. I'll even suffer through the bad ones. As long as I get to see an occasional zombie brain buffet. I even caught myself watching low budgie Japanese horror turd "Zombie Ass: Toilet of the Dead" on Netflix the other night. Frankly there were more boobs than zombies, not that I'm complaining.

Now I don't want to sound like a freak (if I haven't come across that way already), But I have a secret.

Deep down inside of me, I'm kind of hoping for a real life zombie apocalypse. And that conflicts me greatly. On the one hand, I feel bad about thinking that way. I mean all the millions and millions of poor people who would get ripped apart by hordes of the living dead, walkers, biters, the unholy, meat puppets, or whatever you want to call the damn dead heads.

But, as a former athlete, part of me sees it as the ultimate test. Would I have what it takes to survive mentally as well as physically? Would I have the stomach to rip out some zombie's stomach with a spork? Would I be able to drive a machete through a zombie's eye socket into the brain (although I would tend to avoid machete's altogether. I could see my machete getting stuck in some zombie's skull and being overrun while I'm trying to pull  it out).

But... I have a game plan. First stop would be to the local gun shop (a sporting goods store would also do). Of course, everybody thinks of that. But here's one they don't think of: my second stop would be to a motor-cross store. I would armor the f*** up. Boots, elbow pads, body armor, the works. I don't understand people in zombie movies walking around in tee shirts. Or they trying to get themselves killed? I would be armored from head to toe. No sneaky little legless zombie in the grass is going to bite my ankle when I stop to take a wiss. 

Next I would visit the local marina and purloin a sailboat (forty foot or greater). Now I don't believe those movies where legions of the living dead are bobbing around in the ocean just waiting to climb aboard an unsuspecting vessel. I would have to believe the salt water would dissolve them pretty quickly.  Just being realistic here.

Then, it would just be a matter of riding up and down the coast, making hit and run trips inland for supplies. Hopefully, I would meet up with some like-minded human survivors (there's strength in numbers). Hopefully one of them would be a sexy warrior princess who is turned on by sailors. 

This doesn't make me strange, does it?

Does anyone feel the same way?

Hello?

Zombie smorgasbord 

Images courtesy of "The Black Album"