10 REASONS I'D MAKE A GOOD ZOMBIE

I just saw 28 Weeks Later, and it got me thinking. There are many reasons I might make a good Zombie.

1) Team Player. Let's face it, one zombie on his or her own isn't usually that scary. That's why you have to work as a team. I'm no complainer, so I think that if all the other Zombies want to drift toward some boarded up house and I didn't want to, I'd probably still help the team terrorize the victims within just to let my fellow Zombies know I'm there for them at such a challenging time.

2) Not a picky eater. It's no secret that the Bros. Steans like their food, and part of that means enjoying trying new things. Most Zombies enjoy brains, but I'd be willing to try an ear or leg so everyone could have a shot at our victim.

3) Not a stickler for staying super clean. Part of being a Zombie is drooling your own blood down the front of your shirt, as well as getting splattered with the blood of your victims. This might bug some Zombies, but not me.

4) Not much of a runner. The League likes to walk at a brisk pace, but we think we've already got the ambling pace of a zombie down pretty well. Now, I guess if we were one of "the infected" as per "28 Weeks Later", we'd have to work out some sort of undead workout regimen to keep up

5) Able to use a claw on a hammer. Many Zombies burst through boarded up windows using their body mass and either shoving or getting a mass of like-minded Zombies pushing with them. I would use the claw side of a hammer to safely remove nails so as to avoid injury to my rotting flesh

6) Can walk off injuries. Zombies are famous for wandering about with bits of their bodies missing, from limbs to eyes to gaping chest cavities. One nice thing about playing sports as a kid is that when the team needs you, you can sort of shake it off and keep moving. I think i can bring that to Team Zombie when someone puts a machete into my sternum.

7) Lots of mass, big guy. I'm a sizable fellow, and every crowd of Zombies needs a hulking Zombie that looks really menacing in the establishing shot. Sure, my natural good looks might keep me from appearing too menacing, but I'm sure after a few days of flesh sloughing off in sheets, I'd make a swell Zombie to really demand attention when our troupe first appears.

8) Well manicured teeth and strong jaws. Sure, I've had a few cavities here and there, and I suffer from a small under bite, but I think that when I'd go into a Blood Frenzy, other Zombies might really admire the way I can rend flesh and bone with my well cared for choppers and powerful jaw muscles.

9) Can take criticism. Everyone was new at being a Zombie at some point. And, heck, most Zombies that appear are only on the job a short while before they recruited you. But that doesn't mean that I can't hear what they have to say about my technique and form as a Zombie. No one is such a good Zombie that they can't learn a little from some constructive criticism.

10) Long term strategy. Look, you can go ahead and invade the shopping mall or try to overtake London, but what then? Zombies owe it to themselves to think long-term and really organize. Otherwise it becomes embarrassing after a while when you're just drifting around the streets saying "More brains..." when you know darn well there are no more brains. If the vampires know how to keep their food supply going, so should we.


I guess what I'm saying is that I'd be a goal oriented Zombie. Some are going to say that Zombie's are misunderstood and that the undead are a wide and diverse bunch who defy stereotyping. That may be true, but I'm not afraid to recognize that a Zombie's primary functions are to:

a) terrorize the living
b) eat brains
c) make more zombies

So with the 10 factors above, I think I could really make a bang-up Zombie.


Bonus Feature:

Also, I asked Jason tonight if he were armed only with an umbrella and had his choice of facing down a Zombie from 28 Weeks Later or a Gorn from the Star Trek episode "The Arena", which he might pick... Can you guess which creature he thought he could take?

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Mother-In-Law Day

Hey, Leaguers!

I gave my own Ma some props for Mother's Day, but I failed to give a shout out to Jamie's mom, Judy.

Judy's had a rough Spring as she had a weird scare with what appeared on her CAT Scan as a sort of Brain Cloud. We were all pretty nervous as they had to perform some surgery on Judy's noodle in order to figure out what was going on. Well, the surgery went pretty well and Judy is recovering nicely. And now she has a metal plate in her skull and the ability to bend spoons with her mind.

Judy has gone above and beyond in her mothering duties, and not just because she didn't run me off with a pitchfork (though I am sure she was and continues to be sorely tempted). Judy's always really helped us out with managing Jamie's complicated health paperwork, come up with creative ideas for our unique lifestyle situation and never hesitated to run to wherever we are when Jamie's been under the weather.

We're glad Judy's recovering. We just hope she's following orders and not lifting anything heavier than one pound.

So, today we salute you Judy! It's just really creepy now when you get mad and all the metal in the house starts flying out of the drawers and off the shelves.

Mother's Day, Baseball, bad pants

Hey, Leaguers!

Happy late Mother's Day to all you Ladies of the League who have some kid depending on you for shelter and food.



My mother is in Italy. Or headed there. Anyhow, I didn't get to see her today, but I did see her yesterday. We were both at the Astros/ Daimondbacks game, but we'd separately bought tickets, so we didn't sit together. It wasn't intentional.

Jamie and I had decided to see a game or two this year, so I'd called up Josh some time back and we got some tickets. And not two days later my mom called and asked if we wanted to go with she and my dad to the game.

Anyhow, this weekend we went to the 'Stros game and watched them defeat the Diamondbacks, which is okay. We sort of turned on the Diamondbacks last season and I sort of knew I would throw in with the Astros once we were in Texas. After all, We were going to be getting a lot more Astros games here, so it was sort of a practical thing. Plus, I don't care for Eric Byrnes. I don't know why, but the man bugs me.

I was impressed with the Astros' new guy, Hunter Pence, which is a terrible name for a pretty good player. he had a good hit last night and caught one of Byrnes' flyballs this afternoon in that game (which I watched part of on TV).

Anyhoo, it's baseball season, plus NBA playoffs, so I've been watching a lot of sports.

Friday night we had dinner with Joanne P, in from Florida, and her lovely sister nancy, in from Michigan. They were here to surprise their mother for Mother's Day, which is pretty nice, I think. Nancy has a cottage in Lower Michigan if anyone is interested in renting a cottage for a week or so in the summer.

It was great to see Joanne, who I hadn't seen in the flesh in five years or so. She looks eerily the same, even as I progress in my role as "the guy who is aging badly".

Saturday we jumped in the car and left Wagner here to take care of the dogs (and see her brother and nephew) while we headed to Houston.

We grabbed lunch then headed to the game where we caught up with Sarah H, as well as my folks.

So I was all sqaured away with my new Astros cap and was ready to settle in for the game when I got a little too excited about the beer guy. I was seated fifth down the row and decided to expedite the transaction so I leaped over the empty row of chairs in front of us. I was mid-air when I heard a horrible shredding sound. My pants had split along the interior seam from the bottom of the shorts up to the crotchal region, thus exposing my red and blue striped boxer/briefs to the world.

The annoying bit was that the shorts were literally brand new. I bought them last week as I own only two or three pair of shorts for some reason, but I also paused for a moment upon realizing what had happened to my pants to recall the scenario in which I'd purchased the shorts.

"Oh, these are $8.00 less. I'll get these," I said to Jamie, a little too proud of the bargain I'd found.

You get what you pay for, Leaguers.

So, yeah, I wasn't so much standing up for the good plays, but I did spend a lot of time sitting with Jamie's sweater in my lap. Jamie's pink sweater.

Anyway, I managed to make it from the top section of the stadium all the way to our car without getting arrested, nor anyone catching much of a flash of my translucent white thigh.

Next time I will just pass the money to the beer guy like a normal person.

Crisis with Multiple Dogs!

Randy sent me this link. This physicist has a series on his blog in which he discusses physics with his dog.

And discusses how we live in a multiverse.

DC was right all along...

Reporting in

Our pal Heather is off from her studies at Texas Tech, and so she's using League HQ as a sort of base of operations for the week she'll be here. She's studying speech therapy, which sounds incredibly complicated. Perhaps unduly complicated.

Tomorrow I am scheduled to catch up with a blast from my screenwriting class past as Joanne P. is dropping into town. Joanne was in my screen writing classes with Jim D. She's a swell dame, a nifty writer, and she helped us find our realtor in PHX. So we like Joanne.

Then Saturday we're leaving the house and dogs in the capable hands of Heather as we head off to Houston to see the Astros defeat the Arizona Diamondbacks. We should be back early Sunday afternoon, and then back to work.

I'm still adjusting to this whole "weekend" idea again. It was so much easier to stretch out fun over several days when you're kicking it unemployed style. Now they expect for me to work a few days a week, and that interrupts my flow.

Anyhow, hope Leaguers are doing well. All FOUR of you with babies are probably spending the weekend changing diapers. To which The League enjoys a hearty chuckle. Until one of the animals throws up on the carpet.

Oh, and I finally may have turned a corner on ABC's "Lost". Not only did the network promise a conclusion this week, but someone finally (FINALLY) took action in figuring out what the hell is going on.

That said, and this is sort of a spoiler so...

SPOILER

I sort of hoped Jacob would be the cute little white bunny from the flashback sequence. But that's just how I roll.

END SPOILER

Add in some background fill ins, tie some scenes together that didn't need to be tied together (but they are, so it's kind of cool). Anyway, Lost is back in my good graces.

Sam and Max!

Here's a look at Nathan C's kids, Samantha and Maximilian in their latest adventure!



Ah, I kid. Here's the real deal. Samantha and Maximilian share a moment.


Samantha plans out the next 16 years of psychological torture which she is duty bound to inflict upon Maximilian as the elder sibling.