I Love Zombies
It could be another world's record. On Oct. 15, the annual ZombieCon takes place in downtown Fort Myers and last year's record of 11,000 attendees -- mostly decked out in Zombie Finest Haute couture -- blood dripping, organs exposed or penetrated -- should easily be wiped out and a new entry in the Guinness Book of Records (most zombies in one place) should be established.
Not sure what it is but as a class of people --- undead people -- Zombies love to party. It's not always about an unquenchable desire for hot body fluids (got your attention yet?) and steaming viscera. Something about hiding behind zomboid makeup, dragging a putrified leg and foot, snarling and howling at the moon for no reasons, slobbering and lasciviously staring, that allows walking dead folks to, well, be natural and let it all hang out.
You don't know debauchery until you're a zombie.
It will be far more than a multitude and a mob in Fort Myers. Local business has gotten into the act (my employer is sponsoring the blood collection drive; you haven't truly given blood unless it was taken from you by the good Count or one of his mangled minions) with plenty of events and charitable efforts. For those who just can't get the knack of splattering blood, a cosmetology school will send 30 of their finest (and sickest) to make sure your scar stands out and your mop of dessicated and infested hair gets noticed. And this crowd is way beyond Bloody Mary's. In fact, the tomato juice is sucked up in the first half hour and all booze is annihilated long before midnight.
Yes, look for me. The blacked out eyes and white face, nasty scar on one cheek, spike through the forehead, matted hair, black stockings and garter flecked with bits and blood. Lots of blood. Wait, that described everyone.
Not sure what it is but as a class of people --- undead people -- Zombies love to party. It's not always about an unquenchable desire for hot body fluids (got your attention yet?) and steaming viscera. Something about hiding behind zomboid makeup, dragging a putrified leg and foot, snarling and howling at the moon for no reasons, slobbering and lasciviously staring, that allows walking dead folks to, well, be natural and let it all hang out.
You don't know debauchery until you're a zombie.
It will be far more than a multitude and a mob in Fort Myers. Local business has gotten into the act (my employer is sponsoring the blood collection drive; you haven't truly given blood unless it was taken from you by the good Count or one of his mangled minions) with plenty of events and charitable efforts. For those who just can't get the knack of splattering blood, a cosmetology school will send 30 of their finest (and sickest) to make sure your scar stands out and your mop of dessicated and infested hair gets noticed. And this crowd is way beyond Bloody Mary's. In fact, the tomato juice is sucked up in the first half hour and all booze is annihilated long before midnight.
Yes, look for me. The blacked out eyes and white face, nasty scar on one cheek, spike through the forehead, matted hair, black stockings and garter flecked with bits and blood. Lots of blood. Wait, that described everyone.
By:
Kathryn1985
Age:
26-30
,
Female
