One Frustrated Man's Zombie Apocalypse Story I played all those cool video games. I watched all those movies. I read all those books. In most of those, the hero of the story kills all the zombies, drives a sweet car, has plenty to eat, and always seems to get laid by the end. Yeah. Whatever. I gotta be straight with you about why I wrote this journal and it comes down to one thing, the apocalypse kinda sucks. It doesn’t meet my expectations at all. And I honestly have to tell you, I was looking forward to it. I mean, I really was. It’s not that I don’t like people. I do. But holy crap, I was so tired of all the crap I had to put up with back in the old days, paying a mortgage, high interest rates on my credit cards, high cholesterol, thinning hair and a thickening midsection. I was tired of dealing with jerk-off drivers during rush hour and I was tired of my ex wife yammering at me on the phone until my brain turned to jelly. I was tired of things always getting more expensive and my paycheck always staying the same. I guess from back in all of that, a zombie apocalypse looked like a pretty good future to me. Well, here’s my story. Read it. Let me know what you think.

One Frustrated Man's Apocalypse Story After two years hiding in the bunker, I've been venturing out for a couple of months. Is the world a worse place now than it was? I honestly can't say for sure. I suppose I could create a list of the pros and cons and figure it out all analytic like. The world the way we made it was pretty screwed up. But this place, I don't know. You end up missing the things you never expected, rows of colorful flowers in the neighbor's garden, football games on a crisp autumn evening, new movies, things that smell clean, and maybe most of all, the taste of a good steak dinner and a conversation with someone while we share it.

One Frustrated Man's Apocalypse Story Every dream might now come true. My apocalyptic princess is out there, a former cheerleader who used to dance on the sideline for one of our fine Texas football teams, a fair-haired beauty with all the right assets invested in all the right places, and about my age. I know, hard to believe. But she lives on the south side of Houston, forty miles on the other side of infestation central. Can I get there? Alive? I don't know, but I'm going to try.

One Frustrated Man's Apocalypse Story Two years since the collapse, and the whole world has gone feral. Dusty got out of his bunker, and he tried to connect with the only other survivor he knew of. Now he's sitting in a leaky kayak looking for a safe place to hole up while he figures out how to cross forty miles of dangerous suburban sprawl to get back home. He's got a pistol, a rifle, a backpack half full of supplies, and the help of a girl. But he's not sure about her. She's got the disease, and Dusty doesn't know whether to trust her, or run away as fast as he can.

One Frustrated Man's Apocalypse Story It didn't happen overnight, not like in the movies. I mean, it took more than a year before anybody looked up from their smartphones long enough to wonder why so many of their neighbors were infected. Why so many were dying. The vaccination riots came and went. The grocery store shelves emptied out. The spigots eventually ran dry. That was around the time I moved underground and sealed the hatch on my backyard bunker. That was a couple of years ago. Now, my radio hasn't picked up a signal from the world up top since I can't remember when. My exterior camera died in a storm last spring. And the loneliness has set in, gnawing at me, making me think crazy thoughts, including the one that'll change everything. I have to leave the bunker and see if anyone is left alive.