Ramen & Zombies

by pjmcbride

Rom wants you to know that it wasn’t his fault I was eating ramen on New Year’s Eve. I’d actually had a weird craving for it. It’s almost like food!

Nick, you may have another stalker. Someone was reading all the posts tagged Theater of Cruelty, probably hoping to find out who or what you are. Or maybe they were searching in vain for a reference to 20th-century experimental French drama.

Speaking of experimental drama, I added some features to the blog–search bar, etc.–but they remain resolutely stuck at the bottom of the screen, defying my attempts to relocate  them to all that empty space on the sides. So, should you want a search bar, tag cloud, blogroll, etc., you’ll have to scroll alll the way down.



“Is this the satellite? Please don’t tell me no. I need my SIM card registered and get this s**t jumpin’ Obama-style, or we’ll go Patriot Act on this mother*cker.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talkin’ about I need some money sent my way, ’cause I sent somethin’ their way.”

“This is 911. We don’t send people money.”

“That’s what they always say. I’m high. Goodbye.”


“Complaint of kids jumping into the street acting like zombies.” Maybe they were zombies. The apocalypse has to start somewhere.


An exasperated supervisor sent an email saying, “Why do people unwrap a new roll of toilet paper but don’t put it in the dispenser?” I’m normally a stickler for that sort of thing myself, but I Am The One You Warned Me Of at work (or one of the ones), because once upon a time while trying to change it I broke a fingernail, by some mechanism not yet fully understood, so I’ve feared a similar fate ever since. But I promise to do better in the future, by avoiding whichever stall is running low on toilet paper.