These days your average American is ten times more likely to get eaten by a zombie than to own a house (much less five mansions) and is a bajillion times more likely to get turned into a zombie than to own a dancing horse or a car elevator.
By now, you’ve probably read about the man who got his face eaten off by another man on the side of a Miami causeway. If you’re like me, that story made you stop and shudder, and also to wonder, more than half-jokingly: Is this the start of the Zombie Apocalypse?
I would totally put this in the front lawn of my suburban home (if I had one of those instead of an apartment in the stinky part of town) and wait for the homeowners’ association to send a strongly worded letter.
Excerpts from the Zombie Poetry Anthology
The 2012 presidential election has been slightly less dramatic than its 2008 counterpart. This round, rather than being total open season for both parties, we have an incumbent on one side and a gaggle of out of touch old white men on the other. Fellow zombies, it may feel safe to sit this one out. […]
Lauren (Etsy handle: ChewsBrains) has the best in undead cameo pendants, plushies, and cat toys.
It’s such a special time of year. Chocolate bunnies! Egg hunts! Baskets filled with plastic crap made by Chinese children! Shambling down the street in pursuit of the living and their tasty, tasty brains!
Specifically, Rick Santorum (hello again, buddy) and Newt Gingrich (This is your first time here. Welcome! Help yourself to some bacon bits. Don’t eat them! Sprinkle them on yourself).
Mitt, your relentless trudge forward in the face of tremendous negativity is rather admirable from this Concerned Zombie’s perspective, but you’re embarrassing yourself now.