There are Zombies in my Living Room -or- Why Insomniacs Shouldn’t Go on Horror Movie Marathons

So I got up to smoke a cigarrette in the wee hours of Friday morning only to find my living room infested with zombies.  No joke, I almost cried.  I’m not high so I must be hallucinating, I thought to myself.  So I go outside only to find even more monsters out there!  There was a werewolf in my neighbors backyard swimming in the pool, vampires in the trees, and serial killers climbing the fences.  It was the most frightening experience of my life.

Really, the coal miner guy from My Bloody Valentine was waiting for me when I came back inside, Jason was in the computer room ready to cut my head in half with his machette while I blogged, and Michael Meyers was standing just around the corner while I updated Twitter.  But what really got to me were all the zombies.

Thankfully they didn’t smell, or my nose was broken, or it wasn’t able to keep up with my eyes, or it is quite possibly the most sane part of my body.  I guess that gives new meaning to “The nose knows”, eh?

But, seriously, if you’re not going to sleep for four days, watching horror movie after slasher flick after apocolypse is not the way to go.  Unless you like having zombies over, which is great so long as you have a good supply of brains to offer them, which I didn’t, other than mine, and I don’t think that’s really worth all that much anymore.

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