And that's really all I'm going to say about this date. Other people out there are expressing my own thoughts better than I could do (I'm an emotionally stunted fiction writer, remember), and the world doesn't need me saying "I hope we kill every last one of the bastards responsible so dead that no one will ever find all their parts. And everyone who cheered them on too."
Which, I guess I just did. Take that as you will. I realize that makes me sound like I'm still angry and bitter about it, and, hey, guess what, I am. And I don't plan on getting over that anytime soon. My husband is an airline pilot, you bet your ass this is personal for me.
Anyway. *cough* That's more than I meant to say. Running off at the keyboard...
Actually, what I meant to say was, you need to go read
this, right now. It has nothing at all to do with the above rant. There are zombies. Be sure there's nothing in your mouth, because I don't need any of you choking and dying, or alternatively, spraying your computer screen and blaming me. Go on, shoo, read it. You'll thank me.
And then go out and buy Larry's book. Because it's freakin' awesome.