January 26th

This is Jimmy Varn and I am worn out but still alive.

The generator wouldn’t start. It finally ran out of gas. You know, I wasn’t concerned about losing power because the fireplace works pretty well but I was terrified of losing my blog. This thing keeps me sane. It seems like only spammers leave comments but I can pretend someone is reading this.

Anyway, I needed gasoline. There were a few cars parked on the street and I stole gas from them. In novels, they always make siphoning gas sound real easy. Fuck that. It is not easy at all.

For one thing, I had to find a hose thin enough to go into the tanks. Lucky for me, the plastic gas jugs that Chuck stocked up on come with little hoses and air pumps for siphons. It is crazy what you can buy these days. Or at least what you could buy.

I went to the car that I shot the windows out of and opened the gas tank. I discovered that something was blocking the hose. I could hear it so I used a flashlight and saw that there was some sort of screen blocking the hose from the gas. It is pretty smart safety feature that I didn’t even know cars hard. The damn screen was metal too so I had to get use a slender crowbar I found the day before. I reached in and pried the screen up while I slip the hose in.

That is a metal crowbar that I am banging a metal screen right above a gas tank. One spark and my ass would be grass. The things I do just to blog.

I have to say it was pretty damn exciting. I felt like Mel Gibson. Maybe I will start sewing spikes into shoulder pads.

I siphoned out about five gallons and I was happy for it. There were three other cars parked on my street. I guess most people around here died away from their home. I got four gallons out of a Civic and a measly two gallons out of Matrix. I swear people, keep your gas tanks full in case Hell Day breaks out again.

I am making hitting a gas pump one of my top priorities. I need to stockpile gas.

That kid zombie noticed me. He was still trying to climb the tree. He couldn’t be more than ten. He had a G.I. Joe shirt with Snake-Eyes on the front of it. It was the kind of shirt I would have worn at his age. He didn’t come for me. I was pretty glad. I didn’t want to shoot him.

Getting to more important matters, I decided to do something creative with the hamburger meat. I was tired of food that comes out of a can. I wanted to make something. I had found some tortilla wraps and although I am not sure if they can even go bad I decided to use them. I fried the hamburger on the fireplace and I mixed in anything I could find. Beans, spices and one purple looking bulb of garlic. I mixed it and fried it and put most of it into a plastic sandwich container. I wish I had some cheese, lettuce or sour cream but oh well.

I call it the Apocalypse Taco and it was awesome. Garlicy but awesome.

I found some ice trays and I am thinking about trying to freeze some water outside and seeing if I can make enough ice to fill up a chest. That way if I find any more meat locked in freezers, I might be able to make it last.

Scrounging for gas kept me too busy to check out the screamer’s house. Maybe tomorrow.

I’m starting to feel a little hopeful again