Zombiepoca? e
20080726
&? ;? ly 26, 2008
? class="blog? ">Then I wok? at 4:50 a.m. and fell back asleep again? ? ? ? ith an old deaf ? ? ? om many ? s ago, a? e we? itting on a minivan's tailgate and makin? t. It was nice. But I was with my ne? ? ? unborn), and had to feed him th? oup ? seemed to consist of warm milk,? t of whi? as blocked off by a ? ed-on layer ? asta (li? he c? e on french-onion soup),? h more milk ? ed over it and a bunch of little? atel? asta ove? like cereal. She and I talk? hile? ching the ki? udio? bre? ? ? ? asta? ? ith ? oon, and cheered when he? bro? ? gh.
? hen proceeded to? ? ? p, but had abandoned the spoon in favor ? icki? he c? elli? ? h his fi? ? hich? decidedly inefficient, so I picked ? ? poon and beg? howing him h? ? ? ? uot;Spoo? uot;? aid.? ot;'Pooooon," he said, and bega? ing it. ? hen proceeded to? ry on a ? ersation? h him.
A sho? hile? er, ? ood up a? aid,? ot;I'm going to head to the ? aurant. We&#? e meetin? mom and? ter ? e. Wanna mee? ? n th? ay?&? ; She said, &quo? re, which place?"
I? nd myself walking among the sidewalk tables and entering an Italian ? auraear ? arents' place called Ercolano's, and som? ? simulta? sly with? and telling? where else I wa? that mo? , then dithered for a while ? whe? or not I should? ? able? everyone wh? hey arrived. The pla? as crowded.
? >She showed up a? min? ? er, and she had become m? e, come to colle? he last of h? hings. Her hair had ? n. My perspe? e shifte? tsid? self, and I looked back ? here I had once been, an? ? an older man with a? hy beard? shy ? ? inkled face and clear, intense green eyes. H? ared at her fanatically and launched? o this fantastic speech ? t her face a? tew, and? ? he intoned,? ot;In? r time among the onions.? uot;? hought of Daniel? ? is, and bega? estioning whethe? ? ? as in There Will Be Blood. That, at l? , woke m? ? the? ? >
12:50 AM&? ;0 Comments
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20080724
? 24, 2008
The? ere coyotes in my po? hed ? evening. I came? oss a small pack of them--4 altogether, ? dim? ive,? ldn't have been more than 3 ? hig? the shoulder--accompanied by a ? iff pup. They we? ipping a? a brown chicken. I ? ght ? he mess ? ed at them. ? filed o? he door but milled a? on ? ool deck, so? ? a barbecue rib ? he f? creen door, hopi? ? ? hem ? he door and then? ? succeeded beyon? wil? dreams; the door was already ajar, which ha? obably been ? allowed them in? s in the? ? lace. They fell upon the rib in a ravening mass, whi? lowly mi? ed o? he door.? ? ? I hurried over ? hut and lock the door before? of them? the idea to come back i? he masti? ? ? ed back through, eliciting curse? the? pidity of do? ? ed mammals.
I wo? ? ealized I had a half? ? ill ? ? before ? ing up f? ork, and fell back asleep again.
I had to bab? ? ee brothers, the oldest at 1? oungest at 3. The ol? ? fine, a? o was the youngest, but the middle child? trouble. He vanishe? some point, and? ealized he h? tole? cell phone, my favorite magazines (sciency stuff-like), and? ? ? ' olyota? ? , and had left for a? ride. I got in m? uck and tracked him down, co? ing him in a drivewa? here he had had ? ? ? o fl? ? as a re? of his ? ible, terrible driving. I go? t of the? ck a? an over to him, seei? hat he had my ce? hone in my hand and was reading my e-mails.
"That&#? ? ? rs,&? ; I ? ted, and he looked at me def? ly, stuc? t his tongue, and threw it down ? he c? ete. It brok? art into? ? iece? ? creen and the small pane of ? s covering it snapping off a? ? ering. Muttering? recations ag? t all little? s, I knelt down and began piecin? bacgether. ? eemed to? k well. Now to deal with the legal implications of my charge's d? ? ? t the right moment, a jeep appeared ? the tall-pi? ? n hill on th? her side of the ? ? , carrying a? tric? torn? ? ague? esembled? in Nealon. Drunk, he sta? ed over and ? red ? I had nothi? o wo? t, he wouldn'? rosecute, th? as just a kid, don&#? ? ry, ? rosecution, it&#? all good, just a kid, no worries. I knelt back down to the kid, took hi? the shoulders, and shook him sl? ly and explained to him the ? re of his misdeeds and how he had do? rong? eat big ? ? ? ed a beg? o blubber an? ? e he'd n? do it again and that he'd be good from now on, and ? gged him. No? ? time to head home; I collected all the ? and ask? he o? t if he had a ride. He nodded an? plained ? as going home with a friend, and I f? ? hat the middle child? in no ction to ? e his pa? s' 4Runner back home? peci? lacking two? es, so I elected to bring him and the younge? ith me; the parents woul? st have to deal with the? ? uati? hen ? ? home.
As I rounded the ? up and load? hem into the SUV, I ? gra? ? ? hole? uati? as just like? itco? y-five m? es o? azy and five min? of resolution, ? a moral to the ? y.
I wo? ? ealized I had a half? ? ill ? ? before ? ing up f? ork, and fell back asleep again.
I had to bab? ? ee brothers, the oldest at 1? oungest at 3. The ol? ? fine, a? o was the youngest, but the middle child? trouble. He vanishe? some point, and? ealized he h? tole? cell phone, my favorite magazines (sciency stuff-like), and? ? ? ' olyota? ? , and had left for a? ride. I got in m? uck and tracked him down, co? ing him in a drivewa? here he had had ? ? ? o fl? ? as a re? of his ? ible, terrible driving. I go? t of the? ck a? an over to him, seei? hat he had my ce? hone in my hand and was reading my e-mails.
"That&#? ? ? rs,&? ; I ? ted, and he looked at me def? ly, stuc? t his tongue, and threw it down ? he c? ete. It brok? art into? ? iece? ? creen and the small pane of ? s covering it snapping off a? ? ering. Muttering? recations ag? t all little? s, I knelt down and began piecin? bacgether. ? eemed to? k well. Now to deal with the legal implications of my charge's d? ? ? t the right moment, a jeep appeared ? the tall-pi? ? n hill on th? her side of the ? ? , carrying a? tric? torn? ? ague? esembled? in Nealon. Drunk, he sta? ed over and ? red ? I had nothi? o wo? t, he wouldn'? rosecute, th? as just a kid, don&#? ? ry, ? rosecution, it&#? all good, just a kid, no worries. I knelt back down to the kid, took hi? the shoulders, and shook him sl? ly and explained to him the ? re of his misdeeds and how he had do? rong? eat big ? ? ? ed a beg? o blubber an? ? e he'd n? do it again and that he'd be good from now on, and ? gged him. No? ? time to head home; I collected all the ? and ask? he o? t if he had a ride. He nodded an? plained ? as going home with a friend, and I f? ? hat the middle child? in no ction to ? e his pa? s' 4Runner back home? peci? lacking two? es, so I elected to bring him and the younge? ith me; the parents woul? st have to deal with the? ? uati? hen ? ? home.
As I rounded the ? up and load? hem into the SUV, I ? gra? ? ? hole? uati? as just like? itco? y-five m? es o? azy and five min? of resolution, ? a moral to the ? y.
4:46 AM ref=? ps:/? .blo? .com/com? .g?blogID=5988413477321192800&postID=2241197020522729778"locatio? ef=h? ? ww.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5988413477321192800&? ID=2241197020522729778;>0 Com? ? pan>? pan ? s="item-? rol blog-adm? id-241070731">
20080703>
? p;
July 3, 2008
? class="blog? ">
? his ? ? robably ? ? a cauti? y tale a? ? ing ? ? ts b? e bedtime...
I'm ? ? ? in New ? ? e, hanging aroun? tside Wal-Mart, whenotice a ? lying in a pool of blood not too fa? ay. We don&#? really ? y about it, until the news c? on: the? n sheriff has vanished. So a Wal? t em? ee and I wal? er and check? the body, and i? rns out it&#? the sheriff, based ? ? niform--he&#? been decapitated. Another emplofinds his head n? oo far away, and it'? ill ? e, a? ? us ? it's a harbinger. Of what, we don&#? know--it dies b? e we fin? t anything more.
? >So I hop in? ? ruck and dri? o California, where appa? ly my pa? s live now. ? n into my dad, a? e re? e th? ome ? le just do not look right. They've gone all ? and? e long, ? p teeth and their mo? are? ing wide, and we realize--they&#? e zombies! Oh shit. ? ? n through the city a? ind up in this high scho? arking garag? here people are hole? , waitin? t the Zombiepoca? e. There are high school? ? s walkin? ound? ? high-school? ? things, and we run into the gym, where ? oup ? ery ? ty a? ery tall gym tea? s and coache? e hiding. We sho? ? hit, really frie? -lik? ntil the? d comes up: the zombies have? aded? dad and? ? p an? erminabl? aircase,? sing? ? ? ? tudent, until finally we've reached the way out,? air of g? ? ble ? s--only ? ? ombies on their way in. We duck quickly into a b? oom ? to the ? s and wait a? mom? . Soon enoug? e hear a growling pass by, and my dad pokes his head? ? 's c? .
W? ? t the door and down a big ramp into a fo? of ? ? , giant trees. We cae zombies shambling ? he distance, so ? tick to the foliage, only to be inte? ted--my dad has seen a g? ? t on the ground enclosed in a gi? ic curving banyan root. ? ? ? o large ? in ? e, and one buste? eggshell with a? ge baby bird? t to it.? ot;Ooo,&? ; he? s, and climbs do? ? ab it. &? ;Dad? ot; I say, &? ;That's an ostrich chick? 's a pretty bad idea--an angry ostrich is not wh? e ne? o de? ith right no? ou know."
He sh? and? ffs the chick do? he f? of my jacket. It's ? le and brown and rea? te and l? like a ? oon/robot version of an ? al bird. My dad then tells me he's g? ? here to be, so just foll? ? ? ? il I come to a large pointy boulder. It'll be shiny black and covered wi? arallel ? ical ridges. There'll be? ery ? ow crack in it--? ? ? here and I'll reach the village ? ? family is, and we can hup and most like? urvi? he Z-poc? se in there. He takes off.
I follow his ? ? ? , an? re enough, on th? her side of the crac? magically a small little old-world village, and I go to the big? ? se, and ? my mom ? e. I? r the new house, only to find a lot of d? cra? ? here, an? mom? lains th? ? maid, J? hine? n't too good at cleaning--she's got a person? y disord? hat ? es h? o watch TV a? ? ime, so don't worry too much about it. Uh--ok. Just then, a call goe? : the zombies have made ? ? ? he b? ock and are ? ? ? ? >
We run up ? ? op f? of the ? ? here I look through a wi? ? o what appea? o be an LA city back-alley. ? e's ? oup ? oung? s and a zombie. The ? ' head honch? ? nting the zombie, making fun of it, kicking it, and ? 're both wearing yellow t-sh? ? ddenly, the zombie lunges and bites the guy'? m, and hriends lose inte? and filter ? , leaving him and the zombie alone. The guy ? s hi? m ba? o his side, and ? ? t of swa? here? arin? the zombie, the? umbles off.
? he m? ime,? ephine&#? ? ching the news. Appa? ? his is a? em of national i? est, and it turn? t th? here? e be? wo o? ? of zombiism: one in Cal? nia (where I am now) and one in New York (where I was in the dre? hat ? ired this blog). The? ? ? tbreak has been ? ained, but California's been abandon? o the zombie? ? emaining? ing ? le are just going to? e to? gh i? t.
L? , I realize both my mom and Josephine ha? ? hed, so I leave the ? e and wa? ? ? ck. ? e, in th? ? '? eat,? eali? hat ? 're both probably dead, ? as I notice? ombie shambling its way through the parking lot towards me. I climb into the back of the cab and hide, hopin? doesn&#? ? ice me, but too late? eali? ? asse? -side wi? is open. I scramble to get ? hut,? it's too late--? ? ? ? st as I'm beginning ? ind ? p, and b? e I ? it, my arm's be? orn off.
? ? oke up at 1 a.m. in a co? ? .
6:46 AM&? ;0 Comments
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I'm ? ? ? in New ? ? e, hanging aroun? tside Wal-Mart, whenotice a ? lying in a pool of blood not too fa? ay. We don&#? really ? y about it, until the news c? on: the? n sheriff has vanished. So a Wal? t em? ee and I wal? er and check? the body, and i? rns out it&#? the sheriff, based ? ? niform--he&#? been decapitated. Another emplofinds his head n? oo far away, and it'? ill ? e, a? ? us ? it's a harbinger. Of what, we don&#? know--it dies b? e we fin? t anything more.
? >So I hop in? ? ruck and dri? o California, where appa? ly my pa? s live now. ? n into my dad, a? e re? e th? ome ? le just do not look right. They've gone all ? and? e long, ? p teeth and their mo? are? ing wide, and we realize--they&#? e zombies! Oh shit. ? ? n through the city a? ind up in this high scho? arking garag? here people are hole? , waitin? t the Zombiepoca? e. There are high school? ? s walkin? ound? ? high-school? ? things, and we run into the gym, where ? oup ? ery ? ty a? ery tall gym tea? s and coache? e hiding. We sho? ? hit, really frie? -lik? ntil the? d comes up: the zombies have? aded? dad and? ? p an? erminabl? aircase,? sing? ? ? ? tudent, until finally we've reached the way out,? air of g? ? ble ? s--only ? ? ombies on their way in. We duck quickly into a b? oom ? to the ? s and wait a? mom? . Soon enoug? e hear a growling pass by, and my dad pokes his head? ? 's c? .
W? ? t the door and down a big ramp into a fo? of ? ? , giant trees. We cae zombies shambling ? he distance, so ? tick to the foliage, only to be inte? ted--my dad has seen a g? ? t on the ground enclosed in a gi? ic curving banyan root. ? ? ? o large ? in ? e, and one buste? eggshell with a? ge baby bird? t to it.? ot;Ooo,&? ; he? s, and climbs do? ? ab it. &? ;Dad? ot; I say, &? ;That's an ostrich chick? 's a pretty bad idea--an angry ostrich is not wh? e ne? o de? ith right no? ou know."
He sh? and? ffs the chick do? he f? of my jacket. It's ? le and brown and rea? te and l? like a ? oon/robot version of an ? al bird. My dad then tells me he's g? ? here to be, so just foll? ? ? ? il I come to a large pointy boulder. It'll be shiny black and covered wi? arallel ? ical ridges. There'll be? ery ? ow crack in it--? ? ? here and I'll reach the village ? ? family is, and we can hup and most like? urvi? he Z-poc? se in there. He takes off.
I follow his ? ? ? , an? re enough, on th? her side of the crac? magically a small little old-world village, and I go to the big? ? se, and ? my mom ? e. I? r the new house, only to find a lot of d? cra? ? here, an? mom? lains th? ? maid, J? hine? n't too good at cleaning--she's got a person? y disord? hat ? es h? o watch TV a? ? ime, so don't worry too much about it. Uh--ok. Just then, a call goe? : the zombies have made ? ? ? he b? ock and are ? ? ? ? >
We run up ? ? op f? of the ? ? here I look through a wi? ? o what appea? o be an LA city back-alley. ? e's ? oup ? oung? s and a zombie. The ? ' head honch? ? nting the zombie, making fun of it, kicking it, and ? 're both wearing yellow t-sh? ? ddenly, the zombie lunges and bites the guy'? m, and hriends lose inte? and filter ? , leaving him and the zombie alone. The guy ? s hi? m ba? o his side, and ? ? t of swa? here? arin? the zombie, the? umbles off.
? he m? ime,? ephine&#? ? ching the news. Appa? ? his is a? em of national i? est, and it turn? t th? here? e be? wo o? ? of zombiism: one in Cal? nia (where I am now) and one in New York (where I was in the dre? hat ? ired this blog). The? ? ? tbreak has been ? ained, but California's been abandon? o the zombie? ? emaining? ing ? le are just going to? e to? gh i? t.
L? , I realize both my mom and Josephine ha? ? hed, so I leave the ? e and wa? ? ? ck. ? e, in th? ? '? eat,? eali? hat ? 're both probably dead, ? as I notice? ombie shambling its way through the parking lot towards me. I climb into the back of the cab and hide, hopin? doesn&#? ? ice me, but too late? eali? ? asse? -side wi? is open. I scramble to get ? hut,? it's too late--? ? ? ? st as I'm beginning ? ind ? p, and b? e I ? it, my arm's be? orn off.
? ? oke up at 1 a.m. in a co? ? .
6:46 AM&? ;0 Comments
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