The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘candy’

My Zombie Roomy (11/1/12)

I’ll admit, I stereotyped. I feel bad having done it (but only because it turned out I was wrong).

On Wednesday I didn’t see the Zombie at all. Tuesday he was gone by the time I came home from work. Today? Still no sign of him. But I did see a little pumpkin thing. You know, one of those little plastic pumpkins kids get to hold their candy when they trick-or-treat.

Here is a slow-motion capture of the thoughts that raced through my mind.

“The heck? Why is … Oh it’s the Zombie’s … Oh God it’s probably got human parts in it … Oh man it’s probably a kids hands … Oh no oh no oh no …”

The last one I thought over and over as I slowly approached it. Mental pictures of this weird, gross scene I had imagined kept repeating in my mind. I don’t know why, but I kept picturing a kids hands in the bucket.

I reached the bucket and … instead it was candy. Regular old candy, like any kid would have after a night of trick-or-treating. I hate to admit it, but I was a little disappointed.

My dear, dear Zombie roommate did not have the crazy Halloween I expected him to have. I really expected some morbid sense of humor kind of thing. A little kids trick-or-treat bucket filled with zombie-snacks. How funny would that be in a dear-God-what’s-happened-to-my-sense-of-right-and-wrong-oh-wait-I-have-distanced-myself-from-reality sort of way? I’ll tell you – it would be very funny.

But nope. Just candy.

Of course, I still won’t eat it. My stereotype that the Zombie is secretly playing morbid Halloween jokes remains intact (but shh, I’m admitting this only in a rare moment of clarity known as drinking and blogging). My assumption (hope? what’s happening to me?) is that under those loving exteriors of my favorite candy bars (tiny Crunch bars, a regular sized Twix, some Peanut Butter Cups, M&Ms!, …) … are tiny, chopped up bits of people.

Is that weird that I think that?

My parents are coming in to town tomorrow so I told the Zombie to get lost for a while. He stinks up the place something awful, and I don’t want my parents to have to deal with it. The time apart could be good for my apparently skewed moral compass.

My Zombie Roomy (8/25/11)

The Zombie came home today with this sneaky little grin on his face that was … ok fine I’ll say it – it was adorable. It feels weird to say that about a guy, let alone an undead guy, but it’s the truth.

Anyhow – he was carrying a bag from Target, sort of swinging it around happily like you can’t help but do sometimes when you’ve got a bag from a candy shop.

I pointed to the bag and said, “mind if I …” and he got the picture. He held the bag out, opened it up, and I glanced in.

It was at this point that I remembered my roommate is not a normal, boyish fellow with a bag but a Zombie (with a bag).

Thankfully, the contents were not Zombie snacks, though they were weird:

  • Pack of D Batteries
  • Sunglasses
  • A box of condoms

I have nothing to support this but I think the Zombie had a date tonight!!

4 Day Weekend – Ideal v Reality

Weekly Wacko (59)

Christmas is over. (Booo!) Back to work. (BOOOOOOOO!)

But I wanted to show off some of the Christmas loot (self cross-promotion what what!) …

My sister and I – I’m not sure who came up with the idea, probably her – decided to do a ‘Kwanzaa Christmas.’ This title doesn’t really mean anything, so please put no emphasis on it. The extent of my knowledge of Kwanzaa can be seen in this clip:

To us, ‘Kwanzaa Christmas’ was that we would make our gifts.

Since none of us are particularly gifted craftsmen/women, this basically meant it was going to be a weird, crappy-gift Christmas. On the plus-side, we thought it might be a little more thoughtful and it would save cash-money.

Here are some of the gifts:


These two paintings were done by the sis for my brothers’ kids.

 

 

 

 

These two were done by me for the bro’s kids. The 4 were a set. Just what kids love huh?

 

 

 

 

 

 

The two ‘puzzles’ above were to my sister (top) and brother-in-law (bottom). The painting on the right is notable because the girlfriend unit painted it for me, AND it won (unofficially) ‘most racist gift Christmas 2010’ gift!

It stems from a dumb joke I made to my brotha-in-law (a black dude), that he should leave some crackers at my parents house so he could call and say, “how are my crackers doing?”

 

The sisters’ main gift to me. JEALOUS!?

A necklace from the sis to the mom and a purse from the sis to the sis-in-law. Fancy, eh?

 

The sis and bro-in-law made various foodstuffs for family members too. Moonshine for the brother and his wife, some fancy olive oil thing for the parents.

*

The sis-in-law put together a cool series of pictures for E$ and the brotha-in-law, involving pictures from some of their places that each represent a letter. Combined, the series of pictures spells out their last name.

All in all, a pretty good 1st Annual Kwanzaa Christmas.

De Jour of the Week (7/25/10)

Tomorrow I return to regular work. Bleh. Fotima and I threw in “Real Genius” and she said, at the title screen where you select to play movie or for specific chapters, “this looks dangerously nerdy.” Heck yes.

Vending Machine Wisdom (or Vending Machine Whore)

I have a simple recipe
For which you’ll soon thank me

Your boss is going to have a meeting,
(They’re always kind of a beating)
So, naturally, it’ll be better if you’re eating!

Do like me –
Act stupidly.
Seek respite
With a sugar-filled bite.

If your day is dragging, just mix
The dullness with some Dunkin Stix.

Keep out the paddle-piddle,
Pop in your mouth a delicious Skittle.

The intern gave you the finger?
Ignore it, and eat a Zinger.

Since there’s that meeting you can’t skip,
Bring your friend and mine, the Sun Chip.

If you’re a more health-conscious snacker
You can have a (lame)non-frosted Animal Cracker

Don’t let that report linger,
Treat yourself to a Butterfinger!

The email you’re reading is painfully dumb,
Time to taste the terrible sugary goodness of Zebra Stripe gum.

A thousand ‘atta boys’ aren’t worth an ‘awwww shit!’
So you’re hiding in the bathroom with a Whatchamacallit.

‘Oh no, this is wrong, wrong, wrong!’
Your angry stare goes soft … can I have that Ding Dong?

Soon you’ll be Mr. (or Mrs.) Productivity!
And after your insulin shot you’ll smile proudly!

With a sugar rush your day is less of a bore,
So do like me, become a vending machine whore!

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