So much happened. Jamaica, Halloween and like 5 periods (not hockey). It's these reoccuring zombie dreams that bring me back-my man and I battling the universe of reanimated corpses.
That's right bitches in finance, when the zombies come you ain't getting near my lifeboat. Things are rough when you start hoping shit will go down. But let's face it, on some level all of us know that we might be more useful in post-apocalyptic zombie world.
I can throw a baseball/grenade acurately over 40 feet, am small enough to fit into ventilation shafts and my dad was a marksman in Nam. I am poised for my moment in the spotlight.