I guess I should start telling something about the zombie that is currently wearing me. I named him Fred. He doesn't speak a lot, usually. Just groans, moans and makes some other odd noises I'd rather not repeat. He's quite the agile fellow, having evaded two minefields and one sniper so far. It was definitely an exciting journey through the sewers that time.
Well, Fred enjoys brains and any other body part he can get his hands on. A fairly decent looking guy, hardly any decomposition at all. It could have been worse, much worse. He doesn't seem very social, but the other zombies I've seen nearby are usually a lot further down the line in terms of winning a zombie-beauty pageant. Also, he still has all of his nose, making it a lot more comfortable for me. I must try and remind him to wash himself though.
Oh, and he's not a bad dancer.
Well that's all for now.