The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

My Zombie Roomy (2/15/13)

Where was I? Not literally … but theatrically! Story-ically!

That’s right, I was in the middle of the woods, surrounded by five zombies. Well, one Zombie and four zombies (the Zombino is a friend and way cooler than those other smelly dorks).

The zombie that was just walking up took her place by a tree, as did the zombie who had discovered me.

This created a weird collection of feelings within me. If I drew it in the form of a pie chart, it would look a little something like this:

Zombie Fear

95% Fear … 1% each for the other five. Who doesn’t dig a pie chart!?

As soon as the zombies had taken their places by their trees, the Great Zombino approached me. It was a slow, friendly approach. He looked me in the eyes and I knew he had good intentions.

Then he bared his teeth and came at my neck like a bat out of hell. I opened my mouth wide like I was going to scream but couldn’t find the noise, I was too shocked. My eyes and mouth showed a muted sign of fear. I’m not sure when it started but I also began to cry.

The Zombie stopped just short of my neck, looked up at each of the other zombies in turn and shook his head no. Then he looked at me again, gave me a little nod, and a gentle shove. He was telling me to go home.

(It felt a little rude … I felt bad for all the times I had kicked him out before people had come over to my place. Here I was intruding on he and his friends, and he saves my life. When my friends come over though? I spray him with Febreeze and shoe him. Then I set to work cleaning my apartment like I’ve got in-laws coming to visit.)

That’s it … It’s been a few days and I haven’t seen the Zombie.

Honestly I feel like I should be more afraid for my life, but thankfully I have Netflix so whenever I start to think and analyze the situation, I watch old TV shows.

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