So, what did you do this weekend? Oh, I hung out with the undead – you know, those guys with major skin problems. We attacked Japanese tourists and ate their brains… nothing special, really.

Vancouver’s third Zombie Walk wasn’t quite a remake of Dawn the Dead, but it was bloody close. (What, pray tell, is a zombie march? Check out Wikipedia’s entry; it’s one of the most entertaining ones you’ll read.) I’ll take any excuse to dress up as a mauled Victorian nurse, or Zombie Guro Lolita.

Around noon, the undead gathered outside the Vancouver Art Gallery (the same site as my adventure with Art Spiegelman and Count D). Fake blood and peeling latex skin were the standard attire. I spotted zombie versions of Jesus and Santa Claus; a janitor, a boom-boxer, a conductor. At 1pm, the crowd descended into downtown, led by a bloody arm dangling from a stick.

We stumbled through the streets, lunging out at uninfected passersby and moaning “BRAINS!” (Or alternately, “Change!” “Shade!”)

The thousand-plus horde came to a halt on the Burrard Bridge. (Someone yelled, “This is supposed to be a zombie march, not a zombie stand!”)

Zombies attack! Everything in our wake – tour buses, street signs – was smeared with bloody handprints and brain bits.

Today’s special – braaiiiiinnns!