Have decided to forge some weapons out of house hold appliances, but realized that I dont have anything worthwhile to defend myself with. There is only so far that my collectable christmas ornaments can get me, and I am not that great at hucking things at faces.
Nothing of note happened today, although I did find a new method of disposing of waste. Turns out there was a fully functional washroom just to the left of where I was sleeping. That explains the toilet like sounds I kept hearing late at night
It seems I had to also plastic cover the house’s power plugs. The late neighbor’s squirrel learned that quickly. On the plus side I had some leftover butter and chocolate from Kenny’s potpourri extravaganza. Let’s crust this sucker!
The water inside the house was a bad idea. It reminded me of the old testament fiasco where, Moses took that life raft and carried that pair of Australian Gerbils to the burning bush.
Boredom struck today as I looked at all the zombies outside dancing in the rain. I was reminded about how Ricky Martin revolutionized the world of music with his first Polka Hit: Snail Soup. It was an epic ballad of fantastic proportions that sustained the tale of a thatcher who couldn’t get anywhere with his pet goat. I saw the movement of the undead’s hips and thought to myself: “Man I could really go for a waterpark escapade” At that moment it hit me. I could flood the house and have an indoor pool, with enough mouth blown plastic bags I could get a nice floaty and be safe. Onwards to joy!
Sugar crashes suck.
I am not sure what happened last night, but one of the zombies is wearing my pants and another is weilding my firepoker as a writing utensil. I feel like they are laughing and pointing at me for something that happened during my sugarfest