I have a friend who sends me emails about the increasing speed with which some Grand Future Catastrophe will arrive. So, I know the END IS NIGH.
Meanwhile, just being alive I am injuring myself at an alarming rate. If this keeps up, I will be covered in I.V.'s and casts becoming nothing short of a forced buffet for the undead...provided they could gnaw through the casts. Those assholes would do it though, they're determined.
I went to the gun range the other day and hurt myself shooting a 9mm. No, I didn't shoot myself in the face! Jerks! This wasn't me duking it out with Ah-nold firing machine guns at each other while leaping burning buildings, either. I shot 60 rounds and loaded my own clips and fucked myself up so badly that I had to take off two days of work, get two chiropractic adjustments and four massage plus e-stim + two weeks recovery time (while still working) before I was back to normal functioning levels. A 9 mm is a nothing sort of gun; this horrifies me. Oh noes!
Now, I seem to have injured my foot. How? Completely unknown. It feels like the bones are dislocated or something and it sucks to walk or stand. Thank god I never have to do either of those as a person without a vehicle and who does massage for a living.
But wait! A light shines in the darkness. There is a Cyborg Cat galavanting about on Bionic Feet, so maybe I have a chance...after all they say that they're starting to work towards human prosthesis.
If I could replace my whole body before the Apocalypse, I think I'd be set. No more stupid injuries, the zombies probably wouldn't even register me as a human cause I'd be so full of metallic alloys. I'd just need a mechanic to keep me running in tip top condition.
Excellent. Plan acquired. The end.
Just the Facts
- Spooky Pookie Girl
- I'm a Chronologically-challenged Optimistic Procrastinator with some extra chunk, indescribable hair and blue-greener eyes re-entering into the interesting worlds of College and Caffeine and Self-induced mania. I day dream about Zombies cause sometimes an Apocalypse is less scary than Real Life. I'm a hustler baby and I'm making it all up and I alternately kiss ass and rub it to make my living. BUT Life is still good cause my mom thinks I'm special and people like me; they really like me!