Zombies in the Snow (the most times I'll ever say "zombie" in a post)
I've decided to practice insomnia again. I'm picking up this fine art just where I left off last time. Lying on the floor and wondering if Zeus is going to stop laughing at my weakness.
Relatedly, I must divulge a bit of a personal side of me. Late some nights, or more usually, the hours/moments before dawn, I lay in the total darkness or maybe in front of the idiot box and contemplate my reaction to a zombie raid.
Now, when I'm cuddling with my best chums on the couch complete with a bowl of fake-buttered popcorn, and we're into a really, but unintentionally bad survival horror, we all inform each other of what we'd logically do when faced with the situation, and then we MST the thing into the proverbial dirt. But it's always "in that situation" where the dumb but cute so-called hero has access to the best weaponry (yet chooses the damn baseball bat!!) and we ridiculously yell at the tv loudly (so they can hear us this time) "geez! haven't you ever seen a zombie movie??" and then shove more popcorn in our faces.
But I digress.
In these pre-dawn hours, I think about zombie movies (the better ones) and Silent Hill (best survival horror game ever) and then I wander into the darkness of the house and can't see two feet ahead of me so I hold out my hands to the pitch and after all that zombie thought I get scared that maybe I'm going to run my hands right into the muscle-exposed chest of some once-sexy zombie and I will have nothing, not even sight until I struggle my way to a lightswitch. My imagination drives me nuts sometimes. It was just getting light out when I walked downstairs to the washroom and I looked out the kitchen window on the way. It was very foggy and I thought what if that post in the yard is some zombie standing there and staring in my window, and if it is, I'll just call the cops, oh, what if I do call and all I hear on the other end is gargled demands for brains? So I made it to the washroom, the only room that's pitch black, coming just before the laundry room which is nearly pitch black and I fear zombies there, too.
Anyway, when I get out of the washroom, I turned back toward the kitchen (but not in the kitchen yet) where it's still dark and HOLY FUCK SOMEONE REALLY IS THERE!!
Vincent.
The one night when I'm internally freaking over zombie infestation would be the night you decide to wake up when you're suppose to wake up.
I think I'm ready to give sleep another try. Maybe I'll dream of (gasp)
zombies puppies.
Relatedly, I must divulge a bit of a personal side of me. Late some nights, or more usually, the hours/moments before dawn, I lay in the total darkness or maybe in front of the idiot box and contemplate my reaction to a zombie raid.
Now, when I'm cuddling with my best chums on the couch complete with a bowl of fake-buttered popcorn, and we're into a really, but unintentionally bad survival horror, we all inform each other of what we'd logically do when faced with the situation, and then we MST the thing into the proverbial dirt. But it's always "in that situation" where the dumb but cute so-called hero has access to the best weaponry (yet chooses the damn baseball bat!!) and we ridiculously yell at the tv loudly (so they can hear us this time) "geez! haven't you ever seen a zombie movie??" and then shove more popcorn in our faces.
But I digress.
In these pre-dawn hours, I think about zombie movies (the better ones) and Silent Hill (best survival horror game ever) and then I wander into the darkness of the house and can't see two feet ahead of me so I hold out my hands to the pitch and after all that zombie thought I get scared that maybe I'm going to run my hands right into the muscle-exposed chest of some once-sexy zombie and I will have nothing, not even sight until I struggle my way to a lightswitch. My imagination drives me nuts sometimes. It was just getting light out when I walked downstairs to the washroom and I looked out the kitchen window on the way. It was very foggy and I thought what if that post in the yard is some zombie standing there and staring in my window, and if it is, I'll just call the cops, oh, what if I do call and all I hear on the other end is gargled demands for brains? So I made it to the washroom, the only room that's pitch black, coming just before the laundry room which is nearly pitch black and I fear zombies there, too.
Anyway, when I get out of the washroom, I turned back toward the kitchen (but not in the kitchen yet) where it's still dark and HOLY FUCK SOMEONE REALLY IS THERE!!
Vincent.
The one night when I'm internally freaking over zombie infestation would be the night you decide to wake up when you're suppose to wake up.
I think I'm ready to give sleep another try. Maybe I'll dream of (gasp)
zombies puppies.