Tales From the Corrupt

1stSep. × ’09

This week I’ve been spending as little time as possible in front of the glowing oblong that has become the mirror of my self loathing. You might humbly call it a monitor. I find that if I don’t break for lunch and engage in something vertical, my eyes become so sore with itch that by the afternoon I can hear myself blink.

So I’ve been sitting with a large cloister of people that play chess in their lunch hour. All male, all Asian, all web-developers. They’re pretty funny guys and have about the same level of manliness that I possess. Although having said that, I don’t erupt in adolescent she-squeals whenever I allow a bishop to be claimed. I just sob quietly, like a real man.

Yesterday we somehow began talking about zombies, which inevitably led to strategies on avoiding zombie hordes. One of the guys was adamant that he could survive if he packed supplies and trekked deep into the forest. I wasn’t so sure that would be the best option and argued that finding a boat and dropping anchor a fair way out to sea would be best. Finally Ulrich, who had been intently watching the game, looked up and said

I’d stay in town, capture some female zombies and yank all their teeth out with pliers. Then my friends, I’d sample the sweet delights of the first ever Zombie brothel. They’d have the hunger for flesh, without the means to chew through me.

I felt sorry for the guy eating a hot-dog who excused himself from the table.


Yo! Where my Tweeps at?! – http:/twitter.com/DUFL

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