Welcome to Paradise Part Two - A love letter

Hello Diary.

Fuck you six ways from Sunday.

My one last link to my old life and all I can think about is how much I want to burn you. Burn you in the six pits of hell might be appropriate. How do you like the sound of that, ole diary? Wanna meet a fiery end? I could roast a crab over your pages and then piss on the ashes. Then I could ground them into the sand like a

But I can’t do such a thing. You are worth so much more to me. So much in fact that I am going to keep writing in you. But I’m going to write in you upside down, the ultimate play in words. It sort of gives Read Between the Lines a new meaning.

Now that I have told you off I would like to offer a special letter to my dearly dead companion.

Dear whatever the hell your name is,

Sometimes I hate you. Sometimes I want to pick up a rock and bash in your head. Back when we first started this mad adventure together you were young and hot. You were spry and nubile. You could rock a coconut bra like no one else’s business.

Now you are dead and rotting. You smell, baby, there is no other way to put it.

Back on our first island, our lovers paradise, where I took care of you, let you eat part of your dead husband, let you run around without a care in the world, we had something special. Now don’t get me wrong. I know nothing could ever happen between us. Lets be honest here, baby, you’re about as lively as a rock. I have seen stuffed animals with more life than you.

But sometimes I do care about you. That should be clear by now. I saved you from that stupid zombie shark after it ate your foot. Do you remember that? I saved you from drowning a few times. Like that third or forth day we were on the island. I was trying to fish and you were trying to mermaid your self over to me like I was a fresh can of spam. I had to pull you out of the water. Now the jury is still out on whether or not you can even drown to death, er, undeath, I mean double death, or whatever form of

Remember how I figured out how to clean out your disgusting rotted meat stomach with seawater and a little leverage? Those were the days. You were still sort of fresh and looked pretty good in the coconut bra and grass skirt. Now your clothing is hanging in strips. You look like hell, baby, I wish you would take better care of yourself.

Remember when I was going to leave you on the island and sail off? I changed my mind and brought you along. I let you bob along like a little top. And when we got to our new island paradise I had to beat yet another guy to death to protect you. Why if someone ever gets the real story here, they may just start asking questions like why do I always kill the men around here. But it’s not like that, baby. It’s not like that at all.

And now our happy family includes Eileen. She isn’t too happy about being a zombie. I can see that in her eyes. I would hazard a guess that she hates it. She is always staring at me with that same, “Hey, look at the walking happy meal,” look.

So here we are, the three of us on our happy island paradise. Our lovely home in the sun. Just you, me, another dead chick, and the ocean.

After I burn the diary I think I should burn you. But that would look bad, eh my lovely lady? Burning you and scattering the ashes. What will I tell the nice men in white coats that want to talk to me about my feelings when I am at the mental institution, as surely I must end up. Will I tell them I kept a dead girl as a zombie companion? They will ask questions and they will wonder just how lonely I got.

Not THAT lonely.

So someday, long from now when we are back in civilization and you are restored to life, I hope you read this letter and understand that I did my best to take care of you. Really.

Sorry about the enema tube down your gut.

With love and desperation.

Me.

I’m glad I got that out of my system. I may be on a new island with a new zombie girl but something about all this is familiar. Maybe because I just spent a month in the same situation? At any rate, it is really good to be back on dry land after spending days and days on the water with my zombie-top floating along behind me.

She didn’t even get prune skin. Some little critters did pick at her leg, though, the one missing the foot. I had to bandage it up with some cloth and then jam it back into the metal strut. There is also something reassuring about her pad and clomp zombie walk.

It’s late and I found some coconuts. Wow, shocker. Fucking coconuts. I thought about tossing them in the ocean but in the end I cracked one open and ate my fill. I can’t wait to get up in the middle of the night with the runs – again.

God I hate coconuts. 

New Diary 1 - My Girlfriends Hate Each Other

Hello diary and fuck you.

Right now I'm thinking of a lot of sayings I have heard over the years. Never look a gift horse in the mouth, I guess that means they have really nice everything except teeth. Don't count your eggs before they hatch. I guess that means you can't bring as many to market. Don't cry over spilled milk. That one just pisses me off since I spilled all of my coconut milk this morning when Eillen decided to get touchy feely.

A lot has happened over the last few days and I have been too busy to write much. I had to turn my diary upside down and write between the lines. I know how funny that sounds but it will sound even funnier when I say 'Read Between the Lines sucker' every time people are going ‘gah gah’ over my exploits on a deserted island with a pair of zombies.

Eileen is a real handful. I forgot how hard it is to keep a fresh zombie. Now that the other one - I really need to give her a name ... um, nothing comes to mind. I would call her Wilson but she is a girl and it just doesn't work. I guess she is a girl, a dead girl with creaking joints and tendons.

So the fresh one.


The first thing I did was create a new gag for her. I fashioned it out of the old dress that my girl was wearing when I hauled her behind the raft. It served it's purpose. Now she runs around naked as the day she was born which is not hot, oh dear diary not hot at all.

As much as I tried to protect her from the little sea critters something got in and made a mess of her. All those open sores were so gross, I had to dig some little jellyfish looking things out of them. I used a stick and sometimes when I hit a tendon her fingers would twitch or her foot would move. One sore on her shoulder made her whole leg pop off the ground. Weird.

Eileen stared at me the whole time with her mouth open like she was gonna start drooling but no sound came out. A bug may have. I am pretty sure something moved back there. She has nice teeth, not like my girl who has a bunch of broken ones surrounded by green rot.

Eileen is still fresh. Very fresh, like she looks a-day-dead fresh. The sun was hard on her now that she has passed on. It left her skin very dark but with the recent zombificaiton she looks a little like leather. I touched her arms a few times to compare her to my girl. Her skin is still soft, but does have an odd texture.

So yeah I took her clothes off and let her parade around naked as well. I mean I may be exhausted from the trip, the fight, the running around, the days lost on the ocean. I may be all that but I am not THAT tired. My girl kept looking over at her with that eye. She kept snarling like - well I think she may be jealous. She snarled at Eileen and Eileen snarled back. Hey look, it's the snarling darlings. I hope they can make friends with each other. You would think having two naked chicks on a deserted island would be fun but it is a lot of work!

The camp was pretty well setup. With two people I guess they had a lot more time to do stuff. You should see the contraption they built. It is raised up off the ground, poles strapped to trees so they wouldn't get wet when the rains came. It was only about six inches up but that would be enough. The large branches had been pulled down and tied together so they created a weird sort of bowed roof over the platform. The sleeping area itself is covered in an almost plush layer of palm leaves that are fresh. They probably changed them out every day or two. I found some palm trees that were woven together like they were making walls. I started to unweave one and got the hang of how they did it. At least I will stay busy the next few days while I work on this.

I found a bunch of meat hanging from branches near a fire which was barely a bunch of smoldering logs. There was a neat stack of white wood in a pile so I added a few chunks of wood to the fire and blew on it. I was afraid that I would lose the spark and then I would be screwed. I mean more screwed than I am already. Like uber-screwed. Just me, a bed, no flame to cook on and a pair of zombies to keep an eye on. Won't that make night time fun, laying in the dark, wondering if either of them are trying to sneak up and have me for a midnight snack.

Reminds me. I better double check the gags before I go to bed. And the bindings. And the rope to the trees. I never suspected I would be in to tying girls up but it isn't so bad I guess. Ally was usually the aggressor and the few times she tied me up it was fun. Well except for the one time back in December when she had too much to drink, wandered out to get another beer and fell asleep on the couch. At least the feeling came back in my hands a few hours later.


I hunted around and found a bunch of coconuts. How typical. I wonder why they didn't eat many of them because there sure does seem to be a lot. Maybe they were allergic to them. Or maybe they could actually hunt and found stuff to eat on a regular basis. Not like my skinny ass that fumbled around in the water for a few days before I tasted a starfish.

So I had this coconut all cracked open and ready to drink. It was a bitch to open because I had to make a new tool to crack it in half. I was holding the end up to see if it would fit Eileen, I wanted to make her a coconut top while she was still fresh but she stumbled into me with her hands out like she is a retarded kid. Just like my girl a month ago.


I had to find a smaller coconut after that because the first one was too big. At least her breasts are real, unlike my girl who had me fooled from day one!

She is older than my girl I would put her in her early to mid thirties. Hard to tell with that leathery tan skin. Lots of freckles but hell if I lived in tropical paradise I would probably tan all the time as well. The only disturbing thing I found on her body was the Aerosmith tattoo above her ass. I just can't imagine what would possess someone to do that. I mean a tramp stamp is fine and all, but Aerosmith?

Well diary it has been an exciting couple of days with the exception of having to bash in the pilots brains which was not exciting at all. It made it very hard for me to sleep. I tossed and turned every time I thought about his head being crushed under the rock. I hate that I had to do it but I hate it even more than I SHOULD do it to the two girls. Well maybe Eileen, I don't think I can kill my little other little zombie girl she and I have been through too much.

...

Can't get enough Zombie Wilson? Why don't you head over to Amazon and purchase a copy! All proceeds go to the author's tequila and beer sanity fund. Thanks!

A new bizarro novel arrives!

Hi Friends!

After I finished the novel version of The Zombie Wilson Diaries I started on a mad acid trip of a book called The Apocalypse and Satan's Glory Hole. This has all the humor of Zombie Wilson but without an inner voice to tell me if I was going too over the top. This novel has been described as crazy, messed up, gross, and an acid trip in book format.

I wrote it with a Horrorcore novelist named Jonathan Moon and we put this bad boy together with amazing skill if I do say so myself. Pick it up on Amazon in paperback or in Kindle. If you get the digital version the book is only $2.99! That's cheaper than a fancy ass cup of coffee at Starbucks!

Swing by the new site for more information. Satan's Glory Hole!

I will soon be launching a new funny zombie blog for your reading pleasure. Check back soon for the link.

-Tim