January 2nd

My name is Jimmy Varn and I am alive.

I think it has been about ten days since Hell Day. I am not sure exactly. Days become pointless when you don’t have anywhere to be or an episode of Fringe to catch. Shit, who care what day it is? If you can read this it means you are alive too unless those fucking zombies can read. Fuck that would suck?

I can’t believe the internet is working. Cory Doctrow probably has the biggest boner right now. None of the news sites are up and I can check my gmail but all that I have in there is spam. I started this blog because I hope it would be a big giant SOS.

If you are alive and you got steel balls or tits, then come fucking rescue me, okay? I am not sure where exactly I am but I know I in Midtown and I am somewhere off Ponce De Leon. I haven’t worked up the courage to go outside and see what street I am on because you know; fucking zombies are out there too.

I am not making any sense.

My name is James Varn and my apartment was over in Marietta. My job was at the Borders on Peachtree in Buckhead. I was an assistant manager, which was a lot like babysitting. When Hell Day broke out on December 23rd, I was at work along with a double shift load of people and close to a hundred customers.

Fuck that was a crazy day. We didn’t have a TV or a radio station. We started to hear about it through phone calls from our friends and family. Even then no one really knew what was going on. It sounded like some sort of biological terrorist attack where people were going crazy and dying. Nobody mentioned that the dead were walking. That would have been fucking useful information.

My mom called to let me know the Rapture was starting and she was crying being she hadn’t been taken. She told me to pray and start burning all of the Harry Potter books at the store. I told her I would and hung up. Thank God she is in Florida and not here.

Anyway without MARTA to take me back to my house, I stayed at the store. Almost all of our customers left too except for some scared college kids. Half the staff left but those of us who relied on public transportation stayed too. I think there was about twenty of us altogether.

My asshole dick boss, Ken, stayed too. If that fucking shithead had gone home, then maybe the other bad shit wouldn’t have gone done the way it did. I want to record this for history in case it never gets out. Ken Higola is a fucking evil bastard who killed three people because he was a total asshole.

Shit, I can’t talk about that. I don’t know how long the generator can last. For all I know Chuck and Annie might come back today and they will be pissed I’m using their stuff without asking.

I hope they do come back today. They said they would be back before nightfall.

That was two days ago.