03/07/11 Bet you thought I was dead...


By the grace of God, and all my other enemies, Jim's house is still standing. For the first few nights, I set up camp near the front window to watch the bombs drop, beer in hand. The closest one landed maybe a few miles away (that is, other than the first one which landed ON MY ASS). The glorious inferno they caused took out many of the houses on our street. Unfortunately, this also led to the discovery that the "flamers"-- as I'd like to call them-- aren't too bothered by flames. After the safe haven survived all that, a burning mailman almost set jim's porch on fire (Vallerie had to go bash his head in with a fire extinguisher). We sheltered in place for one hellish week; the air quality was fucked. In cramped quarters with six people-- and with Vallerie chiding me about smoking inside-- I was ready to burn the house down with all of us in it.

As soon as the air cleared, I moved into the shed. Some of the others left to search for loved ones, or attend to unfinished business. Lucky me, I have neither. Why let myself be chained down by anything in this life? Doc Marie immediately began working feverishly on some sort of "solar power" system using the foraged car battery, to power the fridge and radio. I made myself scarce; Jim tracked me down anyway and put me to work. We reinforced the fence using scrap metal and barbed wire, stolen from some dead confederate-flag-flying loser's house-- where I also found a big revolver. Everyone who decided to stay contributed to building the well. We have clean water, and the result even looks half decent, too.

Me and Jim found ourselves in a bad spot while looting Safeway last month. Just in time, I met my baby: Priscilla. She's a 2007 Harley Davidson Sportster, color red-- already baptized in walker blood. I pity the poor bastard who left her behind. Yeah, 2007 was a great year for me; that's when the Portland Pyro started her rampage. It brings me to chills, imagining all the fun times me and Priscilla will have together! Or maybe that's just the shed. Heat never bothered me, but I can't get used to the northern cold-- back where I'm from, our winter is like the Washingtonian spring. I've been spending my little free time trying to insulate this bitch. Thankfully, Vallerie isn't here to bother me about lighting candles near the firewood. I wonder if we'll ever run into each other again. Probably not.


Stay safe out there. Something good's coming our way, I can feel it.
S. Smoke