The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘roommate’

My Zombie Roomy (1/21/13)

Remember Paul the Octopus? Or, to use the phrase I used to look up his name on Google, ‘octopus world cup.’ He ‘predicted’ the winners of a bunch of world cup games because he was presented with two boxes of food, each had a flag on it, and whichever box of food he went for first was the winner. And the octopus happened to be right  twelve out of fourteen times. Nuts, right?

Well, I think the Zombie was having a Paul the Octopus thing going on when I discovered, late Saturday night, the dismembered arm of a man who had been wearing an Atlanta Falcons jersey AND a bloodied piece of a New England Patriots jersey.

Crazier things have happened – like, you know, having a zombie for a roommate – so I decided to go for it. I called a friend who likes friendly wager’s and asked if he’d be down for one for the afternoon game. I bet on the 49ers and the Ravens to win, twenty bucks for each game.

Unfortunately, I later discovered bits of jersey from a Seahawks fan, a Chiefs fan, a 49ers fan and a Ravens fan. Apparently the Zombie stumbled on a football watching party and went to town.

That’s an awful lot of people though, so I am afraid the Zombie either was killing for sport (NOT good) or he’s made a bunch of friends (even worse).

On the plus side I made 40 bucks!

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My Zombie Roomy

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My Zombie Roomy (11/15/12)

I don’t know what came over me but suddenly I was so curious if the Zombie is ticklish. I’m not going to stretch this out and tell you that I found out. It would’ve felt weird to find that out.

It’s like my cheating test. If you’re dating someone, and you have a friend who is the same sex as your boyfriend/girlfriend … here’s how you know if what you are doing is something you should NOT be doing. I’ll use myself as an example.

(Note: This works better for the stereotypical fella.)

Let’s say I have a girlfriend. And one day I am hanging out with a female friend. I picture myself doing whatever this female friend and I are doing with a guy friend … If I feel like I would feel awkward doing that with a guy friend, I shouldn’t be doing it with a female friend. So easy! For example, if we’re both crying and talking about our childhood memories, this is “emotional cheating” (a term I learned from an ex). Of course there are exceptions to this rule, but it’s a good general rule of thumb.

Now to bring it back – I could never tickle a girl if I was dating someone because that would feel like cheating. I would not try to tickle a dude friend. The Zombie is, basically, a dude friend. Therefore, no tickling can happen.

I can’t ask the Zombie either. Just TRY to ask that guy a question and get a straight answer. The mystery of the ticklish state of the Zombino remains … I’ll think of something though. Don’t you worry.

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My Zombie Roomy

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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.

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My Zombie Roomy

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