Long story short — we started out like this (click to view larger):
And ended up like this (click to view larger):
And if you’d like to see more pictures from the big Fremont Zombie Walk ’09, then you should click the little jump below and oh boy howdy, shall you have more gruesome pictures. This has already cost me about half a dozen followers of this mirror-blog on LiveJournal, but “Go for broke!” That’s what I say.
Also, before I get started with the picture-posting, if you’d like a proper write-up with, like, words and stuff, you should go over here to Mark Henry’s page. And speaking of whom, about half the pictures I post here are stolen from him, because he took a lot more good ones than I did.
Anyway. After spending an hour or two getting totally thrashed at my place, we moseyed down to Fremont for S. G. Browne’s reading; and then we realized that the time for the zombie registration had been pushed back a couple of hours. This called for stalling by way of iced coffee beverages.
This is the point at which Aric joined us, but he was too late for a full-on zombie-fication, so we just used the whiteface and fake blood we happened to have handy to do him a quick spook-job.
And lest you wonder, yes I really did shove a tube of fake blood up my nose, take a half snort, and spray the rest down my face (atop some fake scab). Because baby, I was committed.
Then we decided to go take a look at that zombie registration line (the organizers were trying to break a world record, thus the paperwork). It looked … appalling. And they weren’t even letting anybody in yet.
In fact, that line stretched about 3 blocks (plus up and down either end of those blocks), and stayed that way for quite some time as new folks showed up and tacked themselves onto the rear. Being not-altogether-brainless zombies, we said to ourselves, “Selves, let’s kill a little time until this show gets on the road … hey, I know where there’s a decent bar nearby …”
And finally, a couple rounds of rum-and-cokes later, we waded through the line — which had actually grown by about 50% since we’d last left it, but was actually moving (at a fair pace) so we sucked it up and hung around long enough to sign our names on a piece of paper and get a randomly generated name sticker.
At which point we gathered, and guided by several zombies in orange vests, walked a circuit of Fremont like the groaning, shambling, sweating things we were.
By this time, it’d been about six hours since we’d first dolled up — and at nearly 90 degrees outside (did I mention no place in Seattle has air conditioning? Well, practically no place), we were all getting a little wilty, and the shambling wasn’t completely feigned.
But such is the price we pay to be truly awesome, and I don’t regret it one little bit … even though my legs look like I’ve been switched by a robotic nun due to the fake blood’s failure to altogether come off in the shower.
Now I’m getting ready to go check up on an absent friend’s cats, and later on we’ll be heading over to Ellen‘s place for 4th of July festivities. I hope all of you have an equally pleasant (and tasty) day ahead of you, and happy holidays, and all that jazz.