An unmerry zombie Christmas

I want what all zombies want for Christmas. Peace. Love. Not getting shot in the head by rifle-wielding haters of the undead.

I came across an item on the Internet that reminded me not only of this nation’s rising anti-zombie mood, but that tools and weapons for fending off the undead are now appropriate Christmas gifts.

Larson Electronics is offering supplies to help people survive the zombie apocalypse (right now I have no plans to start one, but that’s not the point). Included in this kit is a spotlight capable of beaming 5,000 feet so you can spot an advancing zombie horde in plenty of time.

If I plan to visit you, I promise I won’t drop in unannounced. I’ll email at the very least, but most likely will call or text. And when I do come by, it will be some morning or afternoon when I don’t have school. My mom doesn’t like me being outside much past sundown.

Larson also includes a solar-powered LED beacon so you can let other survivors know your position. Such a device can only lead to a very awkward conversation:

Me – “Bob, what’s with the beacon?”

Bob – “Uh, you know, not much. Just alerting people I’m alive. And that maybe they should rescue me.”

Me — “You could’ve just done what other people do. Maybe just yawn, tell me how late it’s getting, and head home.”

Bob – “I guess, but I didn’t want to offend you or anything.”

Me – “Good night, Bob.”

Bob – “Lunch tomorrow?”

Me – “Probably not.”

Beacons are the height of rude behavior. Then there is the universal handcuff key, designed to get out of situations presented by other members of the living. I guess if folks are convinced there is a zombie apocalypse, one of the first things they start doing is handcuffing friends, neighbors, or whoever might get in the way.

Breathers are so odd that way.

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5 ways to survive the anti-zombie apocalypse

I have to be a very cautious zombie today. I wrote a memoir about my life in the seventh grade, and let’s just say I was brutally honest. And if a certain bully reads it, he is going to get all brutal with me.

The good news is that Robbie, who has had it in for me all semester, hates to read (doing so only when he’s copying my homework or off my tests, my fee for being allowed to exist in one piece). Even though I am pretty sure he won’t see my book, his henchmen just might mention it to him, thanks to their contacts within the geek clique, nerds they developed over weeks of cornering them for their lunch money.

So here are the 5 ways I am going to make it through the day–

1. Get no closer than 50 feet from every trash can, especially the one behind the cafeteria. Robbie’s punishment du jour is the same from jour to jour, a quick toss in a trash can. The guy is nothing if not predictable.

2. Stay out of the boys room. Robbie is known to troll for victims in the relative privacy of the boys restrooms. He is like a Venus flytrap, waiting for victims to come to him. I only had a few gulps of orange juice for breakfast, so I should be fine. If not, I know of a great bush not far from wood shop.

3. Skip lunch in the cafeteria. It helps with No. 2 (I’m talking about the second thing on this list, but also the other No. 2), and gives me at least 45 minutes of Robbie-free peace because the dude loves his lunchtime.

4. Stay in the library as much as possible. The library is as close to a bully-free zone as you can get.

5. Take off an arm and beat Robbie over the head with it. This is a last resort if he corners me. But I have a suspicion he thinks I can turn him into a zombie if various undead-based fluids get on him. I can use that to my advantage. Just have to make sure I have plenty of staples and duct tape on me. Wait, I always do.

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Ten reasons it is good to be a zombie

  1. The game of “Pull My Finger” has a shock-twist ending.
  2. When going scuba diving, never have to rent  an air tank.
  3. “Because I’m brain dead, what’s your excuse?” is always a great comeback.
  4. Lack of blood cuts way back on Band Aid budget.
  5. Rarely suffer an injury that will require more than duct tape to fix.
  6. No one will ever be able to top your April Fools pranks.
  7. There is no fart like a zombie death fart.
  8. When asked, “Would it kill you to clean your room?” you can honestly answer, “Yes.”
  9. Can get out of any embarrassing situation by feigning death.
  10. Being the only zombie, everything you do sets a new Guinness record for zombies.

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My so-called undead life

Hi, I’m Jed Rivers. You may know me from such Pine Hollow Middle School situations as  “Kid Upside Down in a Trash Can,” or “Kid Stuffed in a Locker.” Which is fine, unless all you know about me is as being the favorite medium used in the more popular works of bully/artist Robbie.

That’s why I’m starting this blog. Some recognize me as a victim, the centerpiece of Robbie’s desperate attempts to mask his insecurities (at least if you were to believe various experts and therapists). Others may know me for my resiliency, going on despite pulled ligaments, torn tendons and severed limbs.

But most probably know me as the undead kid. And that’s all you know.

There is so much more to me. For example, did you know I am a very in-demand volunteer at the care home because I am the only 13-year-old who can’t actually be bored to death by old people’s stories? Or that I can no longer attend magic shows because every time magicians ask for volunteers for the cut-someone-in-half trick, they look right at me with a sparkle in their eyes?

I also want to use this blog to clear up the misconceptions about a zombie’s nature, since all you probably know about the undead comes from one highly misinformed source (I’m looking at you, Hollywood).

Let’s start with the most pervasive myth – zombies consider human brains to be the base of their food pyramid.

This is highly improbable. First, brains look about as appetizing as cauliflower. Second, with a Spam-like texture (I’m assuming), even the brain-dead would find brains unappetizing. Lastly, brains are surrounded by a material so dense, just getting to them is terribly inconvenient. Imagine if a Mounds bar contained not shredded coconut, but was a chocolate-dipped coconut. (Note to self: Next Halloween, dip coconuts in chocolate. Take that, little candy freeloaders.)

As I continue to blog, I’ll share other undead-related tips, stories and updates. I hope you come away with a more well-rounded look at zombies or, as I like to say, the cardiovascularly challenged.

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