So I saw Warm Bodies (the book) laying on the table at the bookstore. I picked it up and perused the back cover.
A zombie romance? Man, I liked zombies before they were cool.
(I kind of hate myself.)
Warm Bodies, a zombie romance, has been made into a movie. Apparently, it’s something like a parody of Twilight, which seems silly to me, because why bother to parody something that’s already a parody of writing to begin with?
Anyway, it’s the epic love story between Beast from X-Men: First Class, aka a zombie who only remembers his first initial: R, and a living human girl named Julie. R and Julie, if you didn’t get the reference. Also, a link if you really didn’t get the reference.
And somehow, because Beast from X-Men has feelings now, all the rest of the zombies start having feelings, except for the zombies who are skeletons, because people are so delicious. (A side note: ignoring the fact that why should dead things want to eat anything to begin with, why would skeletons want to eat anything? They don’t have stomachs anymore, or taste buds, or throats or anything. So they just gnaw at you because why the hell not??) So then it’s the humans and the nice zombies vs. the skeleton zombies, and it actually looks kind of funny.
But that doesn’t matter, because I am so over zombies now.
I liked them before they were cool.
Dear Cars that can Park Themselves (hereafter known as “The! Best! Cars! Ever!”),
I just want you to know I love you a bit. I really, really do. I think you’re great. You’re super-fabulous, in fact. The best, most wonderful cars of all. I love your gorgeous lines and the way you glide down the street. Way better than humans, for sure. And the way you park yourselves? Nothing short of magnificent.
So I’d like you to remember that when the robot uprising comes.
I. Love. You.
Hell, if Big Brother was a robot, I would love him even harder.
If Big Brother was a car that could park himself, I would love him the hardest of all.
So my hat’s off to you, Cars that can Park Themselves! I salute you, Cars that can Park Themselves! I beg you not to kill me when you become self-aware, Cars that can Park Themselves!
My friend Greg is currently running my web comic, Aloysius Hunkapiller: Monster Slayer, on his web site, Magic City Comic. We got a great artist from Spain and a wonderful inker, and eventually there will be zombies.
Check it out if you’ve always wondered what my writing would look like accompanied with drawings!
(The answer is: Awesome.)
It’s the fourth one, didja know?
That’s a lot of Pirates of the Caribbean movies. In fact, one might go so far as to say that’s an excessive amount of Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Especially since two of them were so goddamned boring.
On the bright side, though, more Johnny Depp, which is something this world needs.
On an equally bright side, no Keira Knightley this time! Instead, we’ve got Penelope Cruz, who, with all that eyeliner on, actually looks like Capt. Jack Sparrow’s long-lost sister, so I’m not sure if they’re trying to play her up as a romantic interest or what.
Ooh, and Ian McShane! And Geoffrey Rush!
And did I hear someone say zombies?
Dammit all, Disney, I think you’ve just gotten me all aflutter for the fourth Pirates of the Caribbean movie. That’s some good marketing right there. Bravo to you. Bravo.
Q. So, AMC’s The Walking Dead, based on Robert Kirkman’s comic book of the same title, premieres on Halloween.
A. That would make sense, wouldn’t it.
These days, it’s hard for girls to tell exactly what kind of mythical being they’re dating. That’s why I’m here to help. I’m just a helpful person.
This week’s guide discusses the possibility that the being you are dating could be, in fact, an Egyptian mummy. You’ve had your suspicions, but how can you be sure?
By asking yourself the following questions, of course:
1. Is your boyfriend a mummy? I know this one seems like a no-brainer, but you have to start somewhere. If you can answer “yes” to this question, then you are well on the path to being certain you’re dating an Egyptian mummy.
2. Is your boyfriend Egyptian? Even if your first answer is “yes,” you can’t be sure what kind of mummy you’ve got. For instance, you could be dating the mummified remains of the “world’s oldest living man,” who isn’t actually all that old nor all that alive. Nowadays, you have to be certain.
3. All right, so your boyfriend’s Egyptian, but you’re not sure he’s a mummy. Is he wrapped in bandages? This one is a toughie. Maybe he’s wrapped in bandages because he’s a mummy and he’s trying to prevent the leakage of precious bodily fluids. Maybe he’s wrapped in bandages because he’s the invisible man. This one really could go either way, but, if he is wrapped in bandages, you at least have a starting point.
4. Does he control zombie hordes? Some Egyptian mummies who have been raised from the dead can control zombie hordes. It makes for a better action sequence, you know? So if your boyfriend can control zombie hordes, he could be an Egyptian mummy. Or a dark wizard. Or a mad scientist. These things are hard to narrow down, which is why there are ten questions. (That, and if there’s not ten questions, then I can’t make this a top ten list.)
5. Does your boyfriend worship Ra? Or Osiris? Or Atum? (Or Aton, or however they’re spelling it nowadays?) If your boyfriend does worship one — or all — of these gods, you should be aware that they are ancient Egyptian gods, and the likelihood of him being an Egyptian mummy is ever-rising.
6. Did you meet your boyfriend at the museum? Was he in a mummy’s casket? If he was in a mummy’s casket, you’ve got your answer. If he was just hanging around the Egyptian wing, all bandaged and zombie horde-leading, things are still iffy.
7. Does he like The Bangles? Specifically, their hit “Walk Like an Egyptian”? OK, actually this is totally a throwaway question. Everyone likes that song.
8. Does he have some sort of mystical power? Like, maybe he can raise the dead to make them into the zombie hordes he’s leading? Or maybe he makes some sort of, I don’t know, sand storm? In Egypt? Or he just curses people and then when they fall victim to the curse, he says, “Ha, ha, the mummy’s curse got them?” If so, chances are: you’re dating an Egyptian mummy.
9. Does he resemble paintings of old pharaohs? Well, that’s a tough one too. Art was more abstract than representational in those days, so all the pharaohs kind of look alike. But if you notice he’s wearing one of those head things (you know, the head things?), like, constantly, then he either has one of the lamest affectations ever, or he is totally an Egyptian mummy.
10. Does he hang out with a guy he calls Anubis who happens to have the head of a jackal? Anubis is the jackal-headed Egyptian god associated with — I hope you’re sitting down for this! — mummification. I know, right? If your boyfriend hangs out with Anubis, then, yeah, that’s a pretty sure sign right there.
If you have answered yes to all these questions, especially the first two, which, you’ll remember, are “Is your boyfriend a mummy?” and “Is your boyfriend Egyptian?”, then you are certainly dating an Egyptian mummy. Stay tuned for a follow-up installment: “How to dump your Egyptian mummy boyfriend for Brendan Fraser.”
Dear Prisoner KSC2-303,
I know it seems like I’m just proposing to every awesome fictional character willy-nilly, but I just want you to know that I have a true and abiding love for you that is as deep as any love that a fangirl could have for a character played by Tak Sakaguchi.
It’s, like, deep.
First off, I really admire the way you escaped from those police through a series of circumstances that led to a slightly oblique Evil Dead 2 reference. I mean, anything that leads to an Evil Dead 2 reference automatically fills me with a floaty feeling, like when you wake up and there’s a bunny in your bed and it’s wearing one of those miniature top hats.
(I think everyone should wake up like that, Prisoner KSC2-303.)
Plus, you have to deal with yakuza and zombies and then zombie yakuza, and they have guns, because, Prisoner KSC2-303, you star in one of the best zombie films ever, and I love you.
(It’s a deep love, and also a pure and abiding one.)
And I realize that you already have a love that has crossed the boundaries of time and space, but I just want you to know: that girl is just too wholesome for you.
I mean, sure, she’s cute and her blood has magical properties or something (that’s the part of the plot I always find a little hard to follow, Prisoner KSC2-303, because what does magical blood have to do with zombies with guns?), but she’s, like, the lawful good to your chaotic evil.
(Your chaotic evil-ness is part of what charms me, dear Prisoner KSC2-303.)
(Well, that and the way you look exactly like Tak Sakaguchi.)
Anyway, my point here, Prisoner KSC2-303, is that you deserve a girl who doesn’t have magical blood or, indeed, morals.
That girl is me.
(Because believe me, if there’s one thing my blood is not, is magical.)
(And if there’s one thing my morals are not, it’s existent.)
Think about it, Prisoner KSC2-303. We could fight evil together or be evil together. I don’t really mind which one. As long as I get to shoot some zombies in the brains at your side, I will be happy.
(You can’t imagine how happy, Prisoner KSC2-303. Happier than when you wake up and there’s a bunny in a miniature top hat and it’s doing a tap dance.)
So please consider me to be your partner in evil, or good, or whichever side you’re working nowadays.
Also, could I borrow your sword?
I love you.
Due to the overwhelming success of a similarly-themed post (read as: vampire-loving teenagers hate me), I have decided to revisit the topic for those of you who aren’t certain whether you’re dating a human or some sort of movie monster. The Zombie Edition.
Are you dating a zombie? Here’s a list to help you find out.
1. He says he loves me for my brains.
Well, lots of guys say that. Sometimes it’s because they want in your pants, occasionally, it’s because they’re sincere.
But he says it like “Braaaaains.”
Does he have some sort of drawl?
A speech impediment?
He drools while he says it.
Is it hunger drool or is it speech impediment drool?
I … I don’t know.
Let’s move on then.
2. When he and his friends get together, they don’t really do anything except grunt.
You just described most teenage boys.
Grunt and claw at the back door.
You just described most teenage boys again.
They’re all grunting and moaning “Braaaains.”
OK, that is a little odd. But not necessarily damning.
3. Well, he’s always losing pieces of himself.
Like, actual pieces?
I have a finger here if you want to see it.
That’s all right.
He left it on my couch.
These things happen. Have you heard of a little-known disease known as Hansen’s disease?
You mean leprosy?
Hansen’s disease sounds classier.
Hasn’t it been pretty much eradicated in most civilized nations?
Yes. Yes, it has. And that could be why your boyfriend is embarrassed to tell you that he suffers from the affliction.
4. He bit me the other day.
Look, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but some people find that sort of behavior erotic.
He took some of my flesh when he did it.
Oh. Well, that’s just– Hmmmm.
5. Oh, and he bit my parents too. Mom first, and then my dad.
When was this?
A couple of days ago.
Have you noticed any change in them?
Eh, I haven’t really paid that much attention.
All right, then. Anything else?
6. He’s been listening to Thriller a lot.
Well, it’s no Smooth Criminal, but still a good song.
He knows all the moves in the dance sequence.
Don’t we all?
7. My dog won’t stop growling when he comes over.
My dog hates my boyfriends too.
So he bit her.
That is weird.
8. Say, I, uh, I think I noticed a change in my parents.
Well, they’re both just … shambling around the house and running into things.
They’re not closet drinkers, are they?
Well, you wouldn’t know, if they kept it in the closet, would you?
I guess not.
So they could just be drunk.
They could be.
Of course they could.
9. Except I think my mom is chewing on my neighbor’s arm.
It’s still attached to him.
The screaming is horrible.
I can’t even begin to imagine.
10. Oh, I forgot to mention: Unless you strike my boyfriend right in the brains, he doesn’t die.
What? How could you forget that?
It just slipped my mind.
I mean, seriously? The A-Number 1 way to tell if your boyfriend is a walking undead, and it slips your mind?
Besides, why would you be trying to hit your boyfriend with a killshot unless he was a zombie?
Because we’re rednecks?
Save the sarcasm for the non-bolded text, you.
Anyway, yes. It’s official. You are dating a zombie.
So, should I flee?
Flee? Oh, heavens no. You’ve been bitten, remember?
… Maybe that was before he became a zombie.
Well, never fear. I’ll be right down there with an antidote.
Yeah. It’s called a double-barreled shotgun.
Nothing. Just wait by the door. I’ll see you soon!
I have a zombie apocalypse survival plan. You have a zombie apocalypse survival plan. Every rational, right-thinking (that’s actually pretty much the same thing as rational), slightly paranoid human being has a zombie apocalypse survival plan.
Because we know the zombie apocalypse is coming.
Of course, in the end it won’t do us any good. In the end, the zombies will kill us all. (Robert Kirkman be damned!)
Here’s the top 10 ways how.
1. Through sheer numbers. So you’re holed up in the local grocery store, right, which is pretty smart, because there’s food there, and magazines. There’s the toy aisle and, depending on what state you’re from, you’ve got all sorts of ammo and possibly fireworks. Awesome. You’ve blocked the doors with carts or perhaps refrigerators or possibly even the bodies of the fallen. You are in it for the long haul.
Except … there are more zombies than humans, you know? And they are just going to keep throwing themselves at the door/windows/walls/roof. While you’re thinking, how am I going to survive this?, they are thinking about your delicious tender bits. In the end, the zombies will come crashing through the door/windows/walls/roof, and eat the hell out of you and your friends. I’m sorry, but they will.
2. Stealthily. But, Lokifire, zombies aren’t stealthy, you say. They’re shambling living corpses that sometimes moan “brains” and other times just moan! There’s nothing stealthy about that! And to you, I say: Stop talking to your computer.
Zombies aren’t known for their stealth, sure. But you know who is?
People who have been bitten by zombies.
In your little group of survivors, you’ve got that guy. The one who’s going to get bitten while you fight off the zombies and try to hide it. “You get bit, Tom?” “Uhhhh, no, Bob.” “That’s great news, Tom.” “BRAINS!”
Then you’re all frakked.
3. Early onset zombie attacks. At first, no matter how prepared you are, you’re going to think: this can’t be the zombie apocalypse. I have to go to work tomorrow. And that’s when the zombies will strike. When you’re still thinking everybody got a weird case of the flu and they’ll be better tomorrow or maybe the next day, and you haven’t even gotten out your cricket bat or barricaded the doors.
That’s when they’ll come.
And God help you then.
4. Using your compassion against you. OK, so nobody’s got compassion for zombies, which is what makes them Hollywood’s new Nazi. (Also, is anything awesomer than Nazi zombies? Except cyborg zombies? I think not. Well, maybe ninja zombies.) But you know who people have compassion for? Innocent l’il chilluns and attractive people.
(I’m sorry, but when it comes to the zombie apocalypse, you know our DNA will only want the beautiful to survive.)
So here’s the scenario: The zombies have attacked. You flee. Or fight a bit, and then flee. Or fight a lot, and then flee. At any rate, you will, at some point, flee the zombie hoardes. At your side are the spunky (that word means what I think it means, right?) youngster and the hot piece of action that you’re planning to nail once the zombie threat has passed. Suddenly, one of them trips.
“Go on without me!” they cry, if they are the self-sacrificing sort. If they’re young enough, they just cry, because boo-boos hurt.
But no matter what they say, you know you’re going back for them. Unless you’re an evil sociopathic bastard, in which case, your chances of survival are better than most (the zombies will still get you, though, somehow). When you do, the shambling zombies will fall upon the both of you. Your sacrifice will be for naught.
5. Starvation. All right, so you’re holed up in your awesome bomb/zombie shelter, which is stockpiled with food, weapons, clothing and your BFF. Thank god you thought to put him down there before the zombies attacked. You sit down with him, prepared to do some apocalpytic gaming until the end of humanity.
Eventually, however … you run out of food. (Even after eating your best friend.)
You know you need to leave the safety of your shelter to get supplies, but — hey, is that a zombie I hear? — you stay inside.
Eventually, you are going to starve to death or try to make a break for it, and I don’t care how many shotguns you have on you, in your weakened state, you are going down like a harmless widdle bunny rabbit.
6. Speaking of weakened states …
Remember that attractive person in your zombie survival team I mentioned earlier? Provided they’re not clumsy, the two of you have made it to (relative) safety. Perhaps an abandoned house, perhaps a tent in the woods. You’re alone. You gaze at each other. You gaze, gaze, gaze.
Then, thanks to all the adrenaline, you two begin going at it like horny widdle rabbits. It’s the best sex you’ve had ever, which is great news, because it’s also the last sex you’ll have ever, because the zombies heard you, and they’re coming, and get your clothes on and run dammit! Or run naked! Just RUN!
7. They will use your loneliness against you. So when the zombies attacked, you left your family behind. See you in hell, Granny! you cried, as the zombies mowed her down. You skeedaddled like you have never skeedaddled before. You took shelter. You hunkered down. You survived, dammit. You survived.
By the way, everyone you know and love is dead. Also, a lot of people you didn’t know and love. Hell, most everyone is zombies. Except you. You’re not a zombie. You’re just some guy playing solitaire for the one thousandth time, which sucks, because the computers went down with the zombie apocalypse and you can’t remember how many stacks of cards there are supposed to be.
In the end, it’s suicide by zombie for you. Well, or actual suicide, I guess, unless this is the kind of zombie apocalypse that turns dead people into zombies, whether they got bitten or not, which means you’re exceptionally screwed.
8. Friendly fire.
“Are you a zombie?”
“I’m not a –”
“‘Cause you look like a zombie.”
“I’m not. I just haven’t bathed since the zombie apo–”
“You sure you’re not a zombie?”
“I’m sure I’m not a –”
“Yeah, I’m not so sure.”
9. Your own hubris. Congratulations! You’ve survived the zombie apocalypse! You should celebrate! Perhaps by doing something noisy. Or awesome. Or noisy and awesome. You should climb Mount Rushmore and pretend you’re a booger in Washington’s nose. Oh my god, the things you can do now that it’s the end of the world!
Oh, shit, that’s right, you think, as you’ve skydived off the top of the Eiffel Tower into the waiting arms of the zombies below. The zombies.
10. Patience. Look, all the zombies have to do is outwait you. You, in your human way, will age and die. Or trip over something and die. Or starve to death and … die. Or get cancer and die. Or an infected hangnail. It doesn’t matter. Unless you have managed to lay waste to every single zombie in the whole world, they will win.
They always win.
I’ve always dreamed of making the big time. Or at least, being fabulously, fabulously wealthy. Like my hero Dorothy Parker said, “I hate rich people. But I think I’d be darling at it.” She was a wise woman, she was.
Anyway, here’s a list of the ways I won’t being making the big time whatsoever.
1. Selling my screenplay about ninja who are also zombies (or vice versa). For one thing, I’d have to write my screenplay about ninja who are also zombies (or vice versa) and I just don’t see that happening.
2. Eccentric millionaire falls for me. “Hey, baby, I love comic books and the flat-chested, tattooed chicks who love them too.”
3. Getting bitten by a radioactive spider and going into pro wrestling. I’d probably just die of cancer. Or not trip a robber or something, and then he’d go and shoot my Uncle Ben. Not Uncle Ben! NOOOOOOOOO!
4. Getting “discovered.” I’m getting a little old for it now, and I think if I had any talents that were “discovered”-worthy, they would have shown up at this point.
5. Winning the lottery. My dream is to someday be that person who’s like, “I never bought a lottery ticket before. I can’t believe I won the $100 million jackpot!” And then not get murdered by my coworkers who buy tickets weekly.
6. Through perseverance and hard work. Sometimes I laugh hysterically at myself for even thinking that’s a possibility.
7. My acting career taking off. Once, I was in a play in college and somebody flubbed a line, so I ad-libbed in response. That is the best acting thing I have ever, or will ever, do. Done. Crap.
8. A wealthy relative suddenly dying and inexplicably leaving everything to me. Actually, I do have some wealthy relatives, but they’ve all got kids of their own. Plus they like my brother better.
9. Becoming a high-paid assassin. First, I’d have to get in shape. Then, I’d have to train. Then, I’d have to get past the whole empathy thing. Plus the “I hate blood” thing. Maybe I’ll just be that assassin who quietly poisons people and runs away.
10. Inventing something awesome. I just thought of this great invention: the “phone signal.” It would be like the bat signal, except the spotlight would shine on my hand in a fist with the thumb and the pinky sticking out. “You have a call!”