The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

My Zombie Roomy (8/16/10)

Friday is my birthday, but I’ll be heading home to see my family on Thursday night – so the Zombie decided to throw me a birthday celebration today.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a zombie birthday party – but I wouldn’t recommend it. Well, that’s unfair – maybe it’s just my roommate that is really weird. But, apparently, the Zombie thinks the crème de la crème of parties is a 6th grade school dance.

My apartment had six balloons, bad music, and a math teacher (who looked like he was frightened for his life) standing in the corner of my kitchen. As soon as I walked in my apartment I knew it was a 6th grade dance – because I was suddenly very sure I’d never kiss a girl, and I remembered that Miss Whitehead is a big dumb lame-head.

It was incredibly weird. The only good part was when I approached the Zombie to thank him for the party, the math teacher said (out of habit I guess), “balloon-width apart, please.”

Comments on: "My Zombie Roomy (8/16/10)" (1)

  1. How could it have been bad music if there were 6 balloons involved? Balloons fix everything … I thought. No?

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