Zombie Attack

What to do in the event of a zombie attack is something I have been thinking about for a long time. I mean months... What I've really thought about this! There would be a lot of security at my places of residence to protect me from zombie attack in the night... or the day. My main concern is what I would live off. Zombies would probably steal a lot of the food, and especially that which I grow myself. What to do, what to doooooo....

I think... Maybe I might die, you know? It seems inevitable. I don't think I'm very prepared.

This latest thought was heartily reinforced over the weekend when I slept at my friend's house. I went to sleep at about one and woke up at four....with something clamped down on my foot. It was painful, it was sharp, it was moving. My mind immediately deferred to ZOMBIE ALERT MODE and I pulled my legs up into the safety (!) of the bed. I sat up and... Wait for it... Cried for ten minutes, considering the possibility of asking my friend if he had let the cat in. I figured the answer would be no, but I was too afraid to get out of bed and look around for myself. I had no weapons to hand! What would I do?
The answer was I would become aware that my friend was giggling slightly and then become MORTIFIED to find it was, in fact, his overweight cat after all. Which had bitten my foot. Which I had then kicked off the end of the bed in my panic. Which meant I was now sat, in the dark, in the cold, looking like an idiot, crying over a cat.

Bloody wonderful.

Just so you know: Mimsy, I hate you. You scared the bejeesus out of me and for that you will never be forgiven. And you're fat. You look like a furry bowling ball with legs. Hell, you even sound like a furry bowling ball with legs. You roll around, thinking you own the place, but you're wrong. Mothertrucker. I will never sleep in that house again.

Happy reading, folks. Keep a knife under your pillow, it might come in handy. You never know.