Suicide by zombie

I had the weirdest dream the other night. I have weird dreams a lot, but this one stuck with me. I was living in this dystopian future where zombies were a constant threat. The still-living would occasionally be attacked by a horde of zombies, fight back, kill off most of them eventually, then go back to life more or less as usual. The thing was, they never quite got all of the zombies, so there was always the threat of another outbreak. Because of this, people had built up different systems of barricading themselves and their families for protection and everyone was very suspicious of everyone else, since any strangers could be carrying the zombie-ism disease (I guess it was kind of slow-acting) or could be followed by zombies. Everyone was in constant survival mode and ready to throw their fellow human to the brain-hungry masses to protect themselves and their families. Some people got so weary of living that way that they finally gave up and let the zombies get them, just to finally get it over with. No one actually killed themselves; just let themselves be killed.

Somewhere along the way, God came down to earth, but turned out to be sort of clueless and required a lot of hand holding to grasp the situation at hand. We were in some kind of fortress watching all that was going on in the world, and God just had no answer for what to do.

In the middle of all of this was a kid and his father who had been largely ostracized by everyone else because for some reason the zombies were after the kid in particular. They had survived together for years, but any time there was an attack, they had to find their own hiding spots, since no one wanted to be near this kid. The father wound up being one of the ones who lost the will to go on and just let the zombies get him. The kid was still alive when I woke up, but I had the sense he wouldn't be for long unless some kind soul took pity on him. Weird, eh?

Britney Spears, the sequel

It is truly impossible to go anywhere these days and not be bombarded by Hannah Montana stuff. How long until she's in rehab?

- v -

Ideas for things to do today

1. Fake own death and move to foreign country.
Difficulty level (out of 10): 9
Advantages: Vacation, no more taxes, get to pretend I'm a spy
Disadvantages: Truly can't come home again, would probably miss family and friends
Hurdles/issues: Don't have a passport, have no idea how to fake death
Conclusion: maybe I just need a vacation.

2. Post more odd clip art.

This is your heart on drugs?

The plant that ate the Alamo

Initially, I was just so thrilled that I got a plant to actually stay alive that I didn't notice the insidious nature of it. It's called a "moonflower vine," and for the low, low price of $6.98 I wasn't expecting a whole lot. It surprised me. Now it's concerning me. I took some pictures to show you. I'd describe the moonflower vine so you could be certain you're looking at the right plant, but as you'll notice it's the ONLY potted plant that isn't dead or dying, and also it looks poised to eat my house, so I trust you'll figure it out.

It starts out innocently enough:

But it's got two main branches, one of which winds down the stair railing:

And the other, which has stretched up onto the porch, behind the gate:

and up the side of the iron gate/door thing:

Mind you I'm not doing anything to influence how it grows and what it climbs up. I pulled it off the gate a couple of times, but I gave up.

I didn't know what it was up to, but the horrible realization is beginning to sink in. This thing has set itself up so it can shut the gate, turning my porch into a cage, and lock me in (or out of) my own house! Yeah, there's a back door I can escape through, but I get the feeling if I let this thing continue its uncontrolled growth it'll wind its way around the house and block that off as well. It's got a third branch beginning to sprout, which I assume will wind directly into my bedroom and strangle me during the night. Did I mention I bought this thing as a tiny little sprout and I've only had it for two or three months? The fucker's exponential.

Oh, and since I could never be content to be paranoid about just one thing, I've got:

TWO of them!

I swear, my house is a horror movie waiting to happen
- v -

PS - if you don't know me, I call my house the Alamo. Ah, now the subject line makes sense, you're thinking.

Confucious say "Whoa, dude."

From a fortune cookie: "Life is a tragedy to those who feel and a comedy to those who think." Pretty deep for a fortune cookie, eh?