This, the First Entry

So, I have decided to become a blogger. Enter the 21st century. Had to be done, I guess. Now, let's see me keep this up.

Have to get the story for Zombie Chronicles done, except I generally hate zombie stuff and have never even read a story with a zombie in it. I don't mind the movies, but they are mostly like comedies, anyway. No wonder there are so many zombie comedies these days. Idea was fairly stupid in the first place. Maybe I can find a better way to do it.

The old woman, his aunt, a secret zombie, pretends to have a mental condition where she doesn't like to be touched, but the guys falls in love with her and tries to seduce her. She sustains herself on opium from the poppies she grows in her garden out back. Lives alone. Doesn't eat. Zombies don't get hungry and food only leads to the inevitable rush to the bathroom. Can't imagine the living dead on the toilet, so opium tea will have to suffice.

Saw a zombie on TV this morning, in fact. Or, at least, a mental zombie: Susanne Sommers and her insane dedication to leading thousands of flakes to early deaths by cancer or some other dreaded equivalent. disease. If she dies early of cancer I imagine book sales will sag...

I love when people try and talk to you about living more naturally. As if they are not part of the planet, os something. Natural means you are part of the planet, doing what things on the planet do. Is there some race of superior beings killing themselves with booze, cigarettes and fatty foods that I don't know about? All your dumb bad habits are natural. You ain't some kinda alien, you're human, as natural as cyanide and cancer and bees.

Ever notice how bees are lazy and fly around like a frat boy sways down the street on an average Friday night? Because they are drunk off their asses on apple and pear booze sucked from the rotting things as they lay on the ground below the tree. September is Mardi Gras for all bees everywhere. Then they go and sting you and die from it. Evolved suicide to save the hive, or drunk driving leading to death, if you will. Guess what? That's natural.

Well, I should be creating some zombie story or at least work on the novels. Got no time to spare after Oliver gets back to me on the book, I suppose.

In other news, currently reading the following: Tornado Alley, Burroughs; The Western Land, Burroughs; Extraterrestrial Sex Fetish, Keith who prefers to be called Supervert; A Perfect Spy, Le Carre; Eve's Rib, Poole, which is a great book about the biological differences between male and female bodies. It's a mad race to the finish, since I feel like I barely read anymore now that work is always staring me in the face and eching the sound of the keyboard down lonely hallways.