November 9th, 2016

Well, I don’t know where to fucking begin. Been back in Arklay Island for two weeks now maybe? Lost Sugar. She didn’t die. No. None of my loved ones died, they left me. Got sick of me. I don’t blame them. I’d hate me to if I met me. However, I love me. I’ve grown accustomed to me is a better way of putting it. This world isn’t ending. The Zulus as I like to call the Undead aren’t going away. So what do we do? We adapt. We live on. We find a way to live our lives as we see fit. I fancy myself a Mercenary. I provide a very valuable service in exchange for god old fashioned United States Motherfucking Dollars. I love the fact that money hasn’t gone out of style. People still live and die by it. I’ve killed many men for it. I’ll kill another one hundred for it.

After a few weeks working for Darla at the Eights, she’s promoted me to the Security Chief. Can you fucking believe that shit? I spent years chasing promotions as a grab happy power monger and when I finally gave up and straight told her I didn’t want anything but a pay check she promotes me?! Well of course I took the job. Men like me are War Dogs or War Lords as I once heard in a movie. We need purpose and motivation. Need a job. Then another job. Otherwise. We become Monsters. I consider myself a Retired Monster, but still a Monster.

My true family is here as well. Sin, my sister; Ringo, my brother; Lilly and Robynn, my Twins then there is my youngest Boy AJ, adopted. Their all tough as nails. We also have gathered a nice livery. Two horse, three dogs two of which are trained Police K-9s. The Mare is a Police Horse and the other is a Race Horse. The third is Mutt but a good house pet. Finally, I picked up a fucking Fox. An actual Fox. Named him Burr. We conquered a chunk of the Fringes. The Bad Family claimed a Ranch and made it our own.

I was thinking about getting a tape recorder and making audio logs. I like to hear myself talk. That might be nice.

Be well, Brain Cage.