The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

My Zombie Roomy (9/15/11)

In light of my theoretically romantically involved Zombie roommate, I wanted to learn more about Zombie dating rituals.

I couldn’t find anything via, well, anything, so I turned to my (and everyone’s) favorite – fuzzy logic. I’ll use myself as the benchmark.

First, let’s take the facts.

I like food. The Zombie likes food.

I play video games or sports or watch movies when I’m bored. The Zombie stares listlessly. Or he eats humans.

When I’m upset I want to be alone (but really I also want people to reach out and try nice things). When the Zombie is upset he disappears for a few days (presumably to eat people).

When I like a girl I think about her and try (too hard) to be funny. When the Zombie likes a girl he gets batteries, sunglasses and condoms from Target.

See? Fuzzy logic! You’re with me, right?

Comments on: "My Zombie Roomy (9/15/11)" (1)

  1. “Don’t forget the batteries,” she breathed in his ear. Always with a smile in her voice, that was her.

    They were on their way to the beach later. One last day out before the Indian summer gave way to the foggy, wet, mess of color that is autumn. Out to the lake. He hadn’t been there since he was alive. Back then, his biggest worries were sunburns and mosquito bites. Now though, things were different. He could barely stand to be in the sun. As a quick thought he picked up some sun glasses. He could stand the heat, but his eyes couldn’t handle the glare. But what else to get?

    A vague memory flittered through what was left of his mind. As each year passed, they became more fragmented as the decay ate away at his brain. His brother he thought suddenly, was 12 on the afternoon in question. He had just nicked a box of condoms from their parent’s nightstand. The two of them filled them up with water and ran about chasing each other with the carelessness of youth. Sure they got a beating later, but it was worth it.
    A smile worked its way to the corner of his mouth. He picked up a box of trojans. It would be worth it to see the look on her face when she got splashed.

    Upon returning to her flat, something seemed out of place. The shower was still running. She should have been ready by then. He knocked on the bathroom door but got no response. Quietly he opened the door. She was in the shower, but no longer erect. There was no mistaking the angle of her neck. His love was gone. Afraid that the first suspect would be a zombie boyfriend, he let himself out and headed back to Texas on the train. His mind a mixture of emotions.

    There you go Brad, your first zombie fan fiction. It was buggin me too much not to figure out a reason for those items.

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