they are coming

I live only about a block from a strip mall with a grocery store, so I'd try and get my hands on as many supplies as I could, before making a quick trip to the pharmacy there to pick up any last resort stuff so I don't have to die a slow, painful death. Then I'd probably hole myself up at home in my bathroom with my baseball bat, and hope that the three locks between the main entrance and my bathroom would keep anything away.

And if I somehow manage to survive more than a month and there's no end to the zombie apocalypse in sight, then I'll have to follow the old motto: if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
 
Eating snacks like alot, not caring about my health, like I know I'm dying bruh, just enjoy the moment. Wait can you do that?
 
Just let them eat me and cackle as I watch them die from the poison (aka my blood) inside their bodies.
 
Wait for mud tires, screamin' rednecks, beer, and shot guns to save the day. Southern Mississippi, baby, where everyone ages 6 and up has a shot gun every two feet. I give it 5 minutes if one breaks out here.
 
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