“Take that Klingon scum!”
“You know that’s an asteroid, right? The Klingons are behind us…”

… I should probably admit that I’ve had an idea for a story floating around in my head for some time now. The Enterprise encounters a duplicate planet Earth, which is being overrun by zombies. Of course, Kirk, Spock and McCoy don’t know this until their security team is attacked by the zombies.

“Get - away - you zombie - freaks! Get - a - life!”

Anyway, Kirk and Spock wind up on the planet fortificated in a farmhouse fighting off zombies with duplicate-Earth survivors (Kirk gets it on with a zombie woman!!!!), while Scotty, Sulu and the rest of the crew fight off a zombie infestation on the ship, thanks to the revived-Living-Dead redshirts.

“Ah, zombie-Chekov, Russians invented zombies, everyone knows that! En garde!”

At one point, with hand-phasers depleted of energy (well, it’s not like “stun” or “kill” do a lot of good against the unDead, which means the only thing left is “vaporize”, and I’d imagine that takes a lot out of a phaser!), Sulu grabs his rapier and starts lancing zombies through the head.

(The more I think about it, the more I like this idea…)

*UPDATE* I wrote six pages in Courier New font, size 10. Single spaced.

*UPDATE* If you’re unlucky enough that I know both your first and last names - hahahahahaha - don’t be surprised if you wind up as a zombified security guard. I’m just sayin’.

Last week, I watched the original “Dawn of the Dead”. Yesterday, I watched “Day of the Dead.” Tonight, I’m halfway through “Night of the Living Dead.”

If you had to put together a “Zombie Survival Kit”, what would you include? Let’s say the purpose would be to fight your way through a half-mile of suburbania to a safe house …

A big 4-cell maglite - provides both light, and a double useage as a club.

A big honkin’ knife, as a last resort, or in case I need to cut anything … like a zombie’s throat! “That’s not a knife … this is a knife!” Machette, really, but, hey, that’s even better - if a zombie bites you in the arm, chop it off baby!

For situations where a long-firearm isn’t practical, go with the best: a (replica) Colt .45. Good enough to kill Nazis, more than good enough to kill rottin’ zombies. The Springfield Armory GI model gives you those classic lines, and the .45 caliber bullet provides more than enough power to blow a zombie’s brain to bits. Also, use the lanyard hook to secure the weapon to you so “Bub” doesn’t try to use it against you … (make sure to have a couple extra loaded magazines in a convenient pocket).

For the occasion where you want to pick a zombie off at long range, swing past Walmart and break into their sporting section. Make sure to take a few potshots at store displays to make sure you know how to operate the weapon - I’d suggest a bolt-action like this, or maybe a lever action, if you’d like to pretend you’re a cowboy. Probably not the most convenient for close-quarters action, so get a strap so you can carry it on your back, and throw a box or five of ammo in your backpack - when you get where you’re going, someone’ll have use of it.

When you’ve just absolutely, positively, gotta kill every fucking dead thing coming to munch on you, you can’t do wrong with the Benelli M3 Super 90. Even if you’re not the best shot, a shotgun blast at close range’ll pulverize a zombie’s decaying skull. Fuck that “Tactical” package and make sure you get the full-stock with pistol grip, giving you ample aiming and recoil control. Load yourself up with as many shells as you can find, bandoliers are cool for that - so are tactical slings and shell-butt-stock bands.

I mentioned a backpack earlier — yeah, a big one. Stick with the simple stuff: a first aid kit, some aspirin, a canteen or two of water, cans of chef boyardee, and as much ammo as you can carry. Find allies, share supplies, and kill the rotting zombies before they kill you.

(PS - don’t forget a can opener, eh?)

Isn’t this old news?

The U.S. military may not be able to win any new wars as quickly as planned because the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan have strained its manpower and resources, the nation’s top military officer told Congress in a classified report.

Gen. Richard Myers, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, described the U.S. military as in a period of increased risk, according to a senior defense official, who described the report on the condition of anonymity.

Myers predicted the risk would go down in a year or two, the official said.

We can hope it’ll go down, but I’d imagine this would have to get turned around first.

Oh, and plus? Christian Fundies at the Air Force Academy? Not helping. I swear, Osama Bin Laden and his Islamic Fundie buddies can kill as many people as they want, America’s greatest danger is internal - it comes from Christian fundies who hate the Constitution and the freedom it guarantees.

The head isn’t big enough, and the body shouldn’t be as long, and neither the head nor the body are in proper scale to each other, but the body language is there, and can’t you just hear this thing saying, “I’m feeling very depressed”? It’s great!

The gallery is here.

It turns out Gary’s grandparents used to live in Remington, and that his uncles will soon be selling the property, a rowhouse located on Atkinson Avenue. This will probably be well before I’m ready to buy - plus, I’m seriously considering doing the TechBalt thing and moving to Linden Ave, reply to my e-mail Adam! - however, I will be going down possibly tomorrow (Sunday at the latest) to look at the exterior of the home.

gallery

“OH MY GOD! IT’S BRICK VADER! KIDS - RUN! RUN!”

I really don’t mind waking up in the middle of the night and surfing the ‘net for an hour. No, really, even though its becoming more and more of a regular occurance. When I wake up and sun is streaming in my window and I haven’t had my sleep interupted, I think, wtf did I do different? (Maybe I should stop having those after-10pm dinners?)

Last night at work was miserable. Usually, Greg closes on Monday, but he had his 2nd kid on the 20th — his wife did, you know what I mean, shut up — and so the past few weeks, he hasn’t been closing on Mondays. Generally, Ross (aka Chewbacca) will drive until 8, then switch to work inside and close. Well, last night, Ogre was closing manager.

(There’s a whole long bit about Greg having his kid on the 20th - the following Wednesday he was all like, “Well, we knew she was going to have it that week, and I was praying ‘not the 20th, not the 20th’ but of course … that’s when Heather had her!” I provided some good natured heckling, “Hey, maaan, just means you’ve got two reasons to celebrate April 20th, now! I’m sure you can get some faaaat weed off Ogre!”

“I don’t get fat weed anymore, I just get the cheap stuff,” Ogre said from the front counter.

I don’t know if he was joking or not — I kid, because Ogre used to work with Sketchy (who works with me at my full time job) and has a story to tell involving Ogre having, in his possession, apparently, the best weed Sketchy’d ever smoked - and Sketchy knows his marijuana.

Anyway, Greg endured a good amount of good natured kidding. My impression of his daughter included (think a female Matt McConaughey from “Dazed & Confused”), “Maaaan, it’s such a bummer being born on 4/20, ‘cuz like, all anyone wants to do is geat high and … stuff. Oh, plus, like Hitler was born, or something, and Columbine … and it’s like, everyone getting high, and I want to say, ‘it’s my birthday! let’s get high instead!’”

Thankfully, Greg has a sense of humor and took it in stride. I should also mention he did not distribute any cigars, because he’s a cheap bastard. Er. And now back to the actual story …

It was a disaster. And here’s the thing: we were not busy. It’s just because Ogre - being Ogre - was Ogre and therefore unable to accomplish a very simple job, or ask for help, that the night just wound up being a total and complete clusterfuck.

Look, I get that Ogre’s a bit slow, and isn’t exactly Mr. Speedy. I get that when the corporate manual tells him to do things one way, and Greg, the franchise owner tells him to do things in a very similar way (i.e., inefficient), he’s going to listen. Therefore, when I’m in the back doing dishes and I hear the phone ring, he isn’t going to take the three seconds to say, “Jeff, can you please tend the oven?” because that is three seconds that customer has to wait on hold — and we just can’t fucking have that!!! — and it is certainly much more preferable to hear a loud “thop”, think to myself ‘that sounds like a pizza hitting the floor, but that can’t be the case because -’ *thop* ‘Ogre is …’ - *thop* - ‘oh, wtf?’

Three pizzas on the floor is always a little disturbing because, y’know, they always land so effin’ perfectly on their faces, and in this case, the second pizza that had been loaded on the right-side of the conveyor belt had landed directly atop the pizza ahead of it. In any case, there wasn’t too much splattered sauce or cheese, but this being Ogre — and the makeline already being broken down — the customer whose pizzas they were had to wait an extra five minutes after arriving to get his food.

Plus? The customer Ogre couldn’t leave on hold for three miserable extra seconds? Ogre got so distracted when the pies hit the floor he typed in eight 20oz bottles of regular coke … nope, the dude wanted eight 20oz bottles of diet coke, so I had to drive back out to his place a second time to correct everything (that was actually fine because it’s a fun drive, especially on a sunny dry day, and this was at night and it had been raining. Whatever, it got me out of the store).

Despite having the makeline dishes all finished by nine o’clock, it still took until 10:30 to get out of there, largely because it took Ogre until ten to finish cleaning the front, which meant I couldn’t set the front dishes back up until ten, no could I mop until that was done. Plus, after checking out, I was running around the store looking for the $20 I’d lost, until I remembered that I’d given Greg a $20 drop so he could change a $100 bill when I’d first walked in. Be still, my pounding heart. I was looking through my car - frantically, the driver’s seat pushed all the way up, using my big maglite to try to look in all the most unaccessable points, mumbling “c’mom, pappa’s gotta pay rent…” when I remembered making the drop and started cursing Greg out.

When I got home, I took most of my credit cards, wrapped them in a paper towel, stuck them in a plastic cup, filled it with water, and stuck it in my fridge. I didn’t freeze my Goodyear card because I tend to use it from time to time - I also tend to use other cards from time to time, but I desire to only use the Goodyear card (for emergencies).

Wow. I have so no desire to melt that ice. Stay frozen, credit cards of evil! Stay frozeeeeen!

(I do not understand what is going on with the variations on font size, I really don’t. WTF?)

I can think of at least one individual who is, indeed, despite what she claims, follically-organized, who will be very excited about this …

Yes. But we’ve been given a tough choice regarding how the [Veronica Mars] DVD is released. Warner Home Video has told us that we can only get the DVD out in September if we don’t include any extras. They have to start pressing them right now. I would love to do extras for the package, but our team thinks it’s too important to get the DVD out before we begin season 2 to wait.

I signed myself up to Netflix the other day, because, honestly, I can’t go on spending money on DVDs like I’m a millionaire, because, honestly, I’m not. Coworker Brett turned me on to some good DVD copying software that I haven’t downloaded or looked at yet, but when I do, woohoo!

My first choices on Netflix (they should arrive tomorrow, I hope):

The Office, Series One (the British version)
Night of the Living Dead (never seen it, although I have “Day of the Dead” in the DVD player now)
National Treasure

After that, I’m diggin’ into The Wire, of which I have seen a scattering of 2nd season episodes.