In Ruins.

My friends.

Oh, if only I could tell you of my sorry tale of woe, but it is too long, and boring, and my zombie manservant GrGhaHHbnf (I keep him obedient with a steady diet of canned pet food and a cattle prod), indicates that a horde is headed this way.

Sufficit to say that I had greatness within reach, and lost it. I had almost attained that goal of true enlightenment, or as the prophets have called it: The Paws, that Refreshes. Revived after my brief period as one of the stinking undead, I fasted and hiked to the highest point in the city, and recited the chants of the Final Book of Fur.

But my faith was weak. I did not trust in The ferret Lord, and he saw the holes in my fervency, and gnawed holes in me.

And so, cast down in to the Pit, I ran amok as a sinner, fornicating and thinking vile thoughts and devouring sinful yoghurt delights. And for this I lost Hildegarde, and was abandoned by Sharko, and am alone. Well, aside from GrGhaHHbnf, but he is no conversationalist.

I will make up for my sins. I will repent. And I will spread the word. The End Times are due any minute.

Today's Proverb:"Kiss his furry Nose, and be uplifted, Such as a balloon is uplifted, and Bite not for ye shall be bitten" . ---Book of Sense Vol 4, 4:67

I have been Remiss..

... But then, I have been a zombie.

I haven't posted in a while... Having been bitten, I became, for a short while, one of the shambling diseased masses. I can only Give Thanks To Binky that this malign curse is reversible... Yet I curse the so-called scientists, with their test-tubes and pipettes, for the genetic tomfoolery that undoubtedly led to this plague.

perhaps the plague that marks the end times? Perhaps we shall feel His Furry Paws upon us soon.

no matter. I will continue to do my duty.

I must say though, that it took me a considerable amount of time to recover from this last... Bad patch. I am haunted by memories of...graaghrr...Ahem. I have formed a small support group within the confines og the police force. i think of it as zombies anonymous. It helps to have a sympathetic ear, when the feelings of irrational rage and the urge to...nnngguuuuuugh.... Fleetingly return.

It seems to be taking me so long to recover...

perhaps more vitamins would be in order?

Today's Proverb:"may ye weary rest your laurels upon the sea of the Eden of the calm sands and eternal blossoms, have no fear, wash well, be safe". ---Book of Epithets Vol 376, 34:88

Zombiefied.

UGH. Ugh annggh ugh engh trogloditic zzzzzzzzzzngh!. Olaannnnnnngggh. Rh rh ahe aegh aegh i ugh nnggg? Egh anlanl ugGGh jjjk ugh effigy. iee ugh uuugHHhhhh ngh hhhhhh hhhfgg eh eh ah gkkk Paris Hilton aaaaaang, hahahahaha.


FHn ujk rt ahhgh eou ugh ugh ughgnnnnnnn.

Bbfy o aagh uh: "nag uugh na Disney agch gah gah ehugh nuuuegh. agd ddabv algh gfghhhh."--- Kuegh nnnn UUUhhhhGGH, 22: 61ugh.

Surgery is hard by candlelight.

I apologise for my lack of posting, my friends. I have been abed, awash in a haze of antibiotics scrounged from the pillaged supplies at the hospital, as well as some sort of pain medication that that Jenkins person made available... For a price. Surgery was needed, as something inside me had... grown. I do not wish to say more than that. The surgery was done without anaesthesia, and was over very quickly... But I wish to put it past me.

My friends, my true friends, have shown their support. Others have barely even noticed that anything was even amiss. Oh well. One must have one's secrets. I do not like to have people meddling where they are not welcome, and they are not welcome in my innards.

but I am back on my feet, collecting supplies, and ready to face another day of killing zombies. Life is truly blessed.

today's proverb: "for the weak and ill may be of use, if they wish to; a leper's hand may hold a steady knife in the army of right." ---Book of Tony, 456:2b

O Hildegarde.

Hildegarde Von Deuters is a very interesting individual. A true warrior in the Army of Binky... A strong and accomplished fighter; yet strangely obsessed by the "likkle cuuute puppieees!!". I assume this stems from an inability to have children, or possibly some sort of mental defect. Nonetheless, we must forget about such small trifling details, and look at the person as a whole. I like Hildegarde indeed, and when the day comes for Binky to wreak Havoc Upon The Fallen And Weak With His Sharp Teeth And Not Miss A Single Unrepentant Sinning Wastrel, No Not Even You, Who Have Hidden Yourselves; yes, when that day comes, I will speak for Hildegarde, and ensure that no harm comes to such an esteemed warrior.

Zombies smell a great deal worse than one would ever expect. It is sometimes difficult to strike at them in close combat as each blow releases noxious gases and odours of decay. Not to mention that apparently bathing is not high on their list of priorities. I have taken to carrying a spraycan of Air freshener into combat with me. It makes life easier, and far less nauseating, although it complicates combat somewhat.

proverb of the day: "let the mothers be the mothers, and the fathers be the fathers, and the dentists be neither, for so shall the doom come"-- Book of Charlie, 34:890

Culling the Herd is hard when your swings all miss.

It's so strange. It seems, that some days, no matter how hard I try, I can't accomplish anything. You can swing as many times as you like with that axe, but you just keep missing. I suppose I would have a greater chance of success firing upon them with my pistol (I seem to have a higher level of competence with it, for some reason), but I can't seem to find any ammunition today... I have heard others complaining of the same phenomenon, of expending all their energy in a futile search for, say, syringes or cellphones. And the sleep comes upon you so suddenly, oftentimes when you are in the midst of a battle, or need just a little more time to complete a task...

I suppose Lord Binky, in his infinite wisdom, must have some sort of plan for us all, that we are just not seeing...

tomorrow I will try to find some first-aid kits. Perhaps my attempts to kill are not enough: I must act selflessly and heal my fellow strugglers. Which is an act that is it's own reward, of course.

proverb of the day: "lo, for the sun did shine upon the tiny paws of the ferret lord, and the little child did laugh and praise them. And the ferret lord said, laugh, child, for yours is the music of the unformed mind"-- Book of Adorabill, 2:223

My Aching Head.

Talk talk talk. It seems sometimes that all these bloody people ever do is prattle away uselessly, and worthlessly. They waste all their time and energy on petty disputes and supposedly witty banter. Surely our time is better spent on meditation and consideration of the battles to come?

Proverb of the day: "In the ways of the small and of the large, all things acquire sheen and lustre wrapped in the glory of victory"-- the Book of Wars, 2:423