There is a large part of me that really wants to get this as a tattoo.


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Scene: Last night, at my friends' house, just as we're about to watch a pseudo-zombie movie.

Me: Should we turn off the lights for better ambience...or should I say, zombience!
Everyone else: {canned and insincere laughter}

I should have written for Seinfeld. Or more likely the Jim Belushi Show.

The first of what I hope are many Shakespeare related artillery puns.

"Get thee to a Gunnery!"

I'd like to believe someone has thought of that, but given the caliber (!) of many of the people I've seen, I'm not so sure anyone has.

The whole Jack and the Beanstalk story has always bothered me a bit, mostly the part where the giant says "I'll grind yer bones to make my bread!" Of all the things to use bones for, bread has got to be one of the worst choices possible. I can probably think of a hundred things to do with bones besides make bread. Like, drumsticks. Or a bone ( Read more... )

Zombie movies are a lot like pornos. They all have basically the same premise, but it doesn't matter because they're awesome.

You know how sometimes people say "If you could wish for anything, what would you wish for?" I think my answer to that is "To never have to wish for anything ever again."

You know how when you're little your parents tell you that if you use bad language they'll wash your mouth out with soap? I don't think I'll ever do that to my kids because my mom did it to me once, and I don't think it accomplished a fucking thing.

The other day I was thinking, for no particularly good reason, about what I'd like to happen to me after I die, i.e., regular burial versus cremation. While there are decent arguments for both sides, I finally decided I'd prefer to be buried whole because otherwise I'd have no chance of coming back as a zombie.

I told myself that today was the day I started eating lighter and working out again, but after Burger King for lunch and an unholy amount of Chinese food for dinner, I think that day is now tomorrow.

My friends and I were having a rather deep discussion on the nature of Islam and their version of life after death by suicide when I came to the conclusion that, while there may or may not be 72 virgins waiting for you in heaven when you die, there are totally beer and hookers down here right now.