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June 1st.   Hurricane season begins today.  Forecasters are predicting 13 tropical storms, 5 hurricanes, 2 “major” hurricanes and a partridge in a pear tree.   Local governments encourage residents in hurricane prone areas to prepare early.  Build an emergency kit, create a family communication plan, know your evacuation routes and stick to your plan.  Well I’ve never paid much mind to any of this until now.  However, I’m not building a hurricane kit.   Oh no!  The Masshole and I are currently formulating our emergency zombie cloud/cannibal apocalypse plan.   Well she’s mostly laughing at me.  The shit is about to get real and I’m going to have a plan. 

Now this idea may have some legs!

This has been a big week for the cannibals among us.  Everyone knows about Rudy Eugene, the possibly drug addled, face-eater in Miami.  Then there’s Wayne Carter who allegedly cut out his innards and tossed the bits at police.   Today, I just heard about a man who ate his housemate’s brain and heart.  Not to be outdone by his neighbors to the south, a Montreal resident is killing, dismembering and mailing body parts.  I have to thank Le Clown for this telling me about this one.  I had no idea this was going on and frankly didn’t think Canadians were capable of such atrocities.  The suspect is Russian so that makes more sense.  Eastern Europeans generally scare me ever since I saw Hostel

Yesterday, I was home, getting ready to get my swoll on (this is apparently what the kids are saying in reference to working out) and I hear a knock on my door.  I am famous for not answering the door.  I will army crawl over to a window and peek outside to see who’s knocking.  This particular knock came when I was topless (not relevant for my readers but provocative, right?).  My eyes quickly darted around the house.  I threw a shirt on and began to look out every window to see who was rapping at my door.  Normally one or two knocks with no answer and they go away.  Well not this time.  They kept knocking.  Finally I grew a pair and peeked outside.  It was just my friend Heidi.  I let her in.  Author’s note: This story is germane to my zombie preparedness because I was sure this knocking person was my crack-head neighbor coming to eat my face off.  We live next to a couple, who are, let’s say, volatile.  He is abusive to her.  Publicly.  At a party we threw, they meandered over and at one point he grabbed her throat.  We asked them to leave and as they walked out the girl said, “If you don’t see me tomorrow, you’ll know what happened to me.”  Plus we googled him and he has a very serious criminal history.  I lock my doors all the time because of him.  Plus, the guy is from Eastern Europe! 

I’ve seen enough horror movies.  I am fairly certain we can survive.  The Masshole and I just need to be on the same page about our exit strategy.  Do we head north?  Do we hold strong in Orlando and buy a panic room?  Staying put may be easier on the kitties but is it the safest?  We may need to make our Sophie’s Choice and pick a cat or 8 to leave behind.  We can’t be arguing about whether we head west vs. north or what cat can’t come along, because that’s when…BOOM!  A zombie eats our faces off as we’re arguing.

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