The Horde

I am confident that I am prepared for a Zombie attack. I have all of the necessary defense maneuvers covered. I have given this a lot of thought. Actually, some would say I have given it too much thought, but I don’t care. Better safe than sorry. Who knows when the undead might rise up from the grave craving human flesh, like fat guys crave meatballs? I don’t know about you, but I want to be ready. And I think I am. I know the basics: You have to shoot them in the head for them to die…again. Once a Zombie takes a nibble of your juicy flesh, it’s only a matter of time before you become one of them. Zombies like brains. And to be honest, who doesn’t? I mean it would be pretty weak if you had the power to come back to life and you wanted mixed baby greens or ears or something. I mean if you are going to be the undead I say go for the prime stuff – human brains.

I work out everyday, so I’m pretty sure that if a Zombie horde ever gets close I would be able to out run them or else blast a cap in they head. I could go at them with a shovel or a pickaxe or something too, I’m strong and fierce. I know I could do it. I just hope that I could do it with flair you know? I would hope that when the time came I would have some super cool one liner to say before I pulled the trigger. Like, “Brains? You want brains? You got it, you undead bastaaaaard!” and then BLAM! SPLAT! Zombie brains everywhere. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll have to work on the one liner.

Recently, a new technique has been added to the Zombie defense repertoire: become one of the horde. This was first seen in the totally awesome film Shaun of the Dead. I think I could adequately blend in with a mass of Zombies because I can do a pretty darn good Zombie walk. I know this because I have been practicing, and practice makes perfect beeyothces. And here’s the best part! I just found out that other nerds, I mean people, not only practice, but also congregate and do it together as a group…or horde… if you will. Seriously these are organized events called Zombie Walks! People dress up as Zombies and stumble through town moaning and limping, while calling for brains. How cool is that? Anyway, all of this to say, that if push comes to shove I could totally blend in…with Zombies.

I think that blending in is pretty much the basis of the American culture at this point. Hell, if you don’t have an ipod on BART these days you are a total freak. I actually got in trouble the other day at work for not blending in. I committed the cardinal sin of wearing sneakers when it was not Casual Friday. Apparently it was Dressy Thursday. You would have thought I had just run through the office with a bloody knife, a bag of dead puppies and an evil grin. Honestly, people were offended or threatened by the fact that I wore sneakers to work. I don’t get it.

Is being a little different that scary? I guess it is. When you look back through history – both real and fictional – you find that people want to kill what is different. Frankenstein was just misunderstood. Same with the Elephant Man and Carrie White. All nice folks who were just trying to get along until someone feared them for being different. I’m not saying that my sneakers, tattoo and sassy attitude rank with the unconventional looks of the Elephant Man, but you get the picture. I was singled out for being Tank Girl.

Did I mention that I have been dubbed Tank Girl by some of the sales guys in my office? It is a term of endearment, which I graciously accept. I actually like it. I think it’s cute. They are singleing me out – in a positive way- for being different. They are saying that what makes me different is not only alright, but accepted. And that rocks.

But, some of the ladies at work, they don’t like Tank Girl, and thus…she gets in trouble for wearing sneaks.

Whatever. I know the Zombie horde when I see it and it better watch out – I’ve been practicing.

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