This weekend, while you and I were barbecuing hamburgers and hot dogs, a naked man was gnawing on another naked man’s face under a bridge in Florida. If that sentence doesn’t scare the you-know-what out of you, you should know that after the police shot the offender, the offender turned, growled, and kept on eating.
Where is the public outcry? The quarantines? The national guard? The ban on travel? I simply don’t understand. LSD my foot. My friends, we are on the brink of the zombie apocalypse and no one seems to care. I, on the other hand, am digging a moat around my house. Because I don’t think zombies can swim. And if they tried, I believe all their rotting parts would just sort of fall off, rendering them somewhat incapacitated. If the zombie apocalypse doesn’t occur, the moat will serve as a makeshift pool of sorts to stay cool in this summer. Because, man, it’s hot , and I’m not even on LSD.
Aside from being anxious about the impending zombie apocalypse, I’ve been lobbying hard for central air. Let me tell you, it’s hard to lobby a lobbyist. The man is resolute. I may have to resort to unfair tactics, like complaining publicly on my blog or systematically shutting down operations at Camp Jennings. And that would be bad, because nothing looks worse than a half-completed moat.
I should mention what is truly on my mind- aside from missing my dog, worrying about zombies, and strategizing ways to get me some central air: my grandmother is moving to Rochester.
Grandma is 88 and has lived up in the Adirondacks for- 88 years. Yes, that’s about right. She has decided to leave the house she’s lived in for 50+ years to come live closer to my mom.
There are some things Rochestarians should know about Grandma:
Grandma just recently quit volunteering at her local nursing home.
Grandma walks in circles in her basement to keep in shape.
Grandma doesn’t suffer fools.
Grandma hates lawyers.
This makes Grandma's relationship with John very interesting.
Grandma doesn’t believe in football on Thanksgiving, dirty feet, or onions.
Grandma doesn’t abide smut on TV.
Grandma wears sneakers with her skirts.
Grandma likes her Sunday sermon short and to the point.
Grandma makes a mean jello salad.
Grandma loves my kids.
Grandma’s a sucker for animals.
I’m really afraid of zombies.
I’m more afraid of Grandma.
Grandma’s ETA: End of June. Time to purge my house of dirt, lawyers, and onions.
I can’t wait.