Monthly Archives: December 2013

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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