Zombie Movies

The last screenplay I wrote was about zombies. I wrote it in three days over the course of a very productive yet what I’m sure was a lonely weekend with few if any encounters with the outside world. The screenplay never fully finished because what good is one more masterpiece to get discredited by the experts?

I don’t even have a title for the movie which hinders the progress. Oh and a lack of time, motivation, and skill as well.

I’m usually good at movie titles too. For instance, here are a bunch of hilarious parody titles based on the movie 28 Days Later that I came up with on my commute home from work. Not all are funny. In fact, several are terribly sad.

28 Blaze Later – a zombie stoner comedy

28 Gays Later – a movie about how AIDS was spread

28 Heys Later – a movie about greeting many people

28 Js Later – a movie about having to erase all of the Js on the screen after the key gets stuck

28 Ks Later – a movie about overpopulation in the KKK

28 Lays Later – a movie about having an upset tummy after eating too many potato chips

28 Neys Later – a movie about a whiny horse

28 Plays Later – a movie about a theater going zombie

28 Rays Later – a movie about skin cancer

28 Stays Later – a movie about frequently visiting the same hotel branch and getting rewards for it

28 Strays Later – 101 Dalmatians with feral cats

28 Trays Later – a movie about a zombie cafeteria lady

28 Weighs Later – a movie about zombie weight loss surgery

Hell Weeks

Is it just me or is everyone absolutely fucking miserable these last few weeks? I’d normally blame sunspots, but from my own point of view I can validate feeling like poop.

I guess it began when I lost on fantasy baseball. My summer was caught up trying to win money from people who work for a company that’s going out of business. I can’t feel too bad for them. After all they have children to feed while my extra food intake is just from a lack of self control.

After losing that, I felt my whole summer had been wasted and I needed a victory. Work was getting busy and I has less time to work on the creative aspect of the job as I had previously. So I decided to submit what I assumed was the best thing I had ever written to a website that gives professional and liberal reviews. Accidentally, I ordered two reviews. This was fine until I got a 6/10 followed by a 4/10. Granted the advice was helpful. However when seeking an easy victory in life it sucks to be called average.

Like I said, work has been stressful too. Between my every day duties, silly requests, and telling my coworkers to use the n word less I’ve been very busy. I’ve also fucked up and so have my coworkers. And when we fuck up, rightfully so, our boss is mad. She’s not fun to be around when she’s mad because well–she’s a she. I’m also in charge of most duties so in the end it’s up to me to enforce the law.

One small victory, and I’m talking the size of a three inch penis, was having a blog post I wrote read on the radio. The two hosts enjoyed it and made me feel good. Actually my hand made me feel good. They just supplied the background noise.

It’s weeks like the last few that make me question a lot. I was at one point so driven to succeed and make something of myself. I guess I still am. I write every day and I think I’m better at it. But who knows? It’s all a matter of opinion anyway.

I’m sitting on the floor of a train as I write this too only because my feet hurt too much to stand. I’m getting old and this Thursday I’ll officially be there. I turn 27 then. I’m at the age where most musicians die in their own vomit. I have trouble smacking my own stomach to a beat so my fate is something else.

Changing weather, darker evenings, and general reasons to be upset are what have made the last few weeks a little hellish.

All of this losing, I wonder how people on Cleveland live with themselves.

(Pepsi drinker hell)

Homely Train Rides

This is me writing everything that happened on my train ride home from work yesterday.

I’m writing this with the ultimate train creep inches away from me. I’d guess at our closest point, which may actually be our dicks, that only two feet of putrid train air separates us.

I stepped away for a moment to give us some room while he reads a book with Arab writing in it or possibly the book at one point got wet and the letters began to run. Is there really a difference?

A black man with a small frame and a child’s face stepped between us. Maybe it is a kid. It’s his suit throwing me off. I catch a glance at his phone. He’s playing Tetris. For how crowded this train gets, I’m guessing its practice for before we transfer.

The creep continues to read. I see him a lot on the train. Like me, he hides in the corner. If I believed in a Middle Eastern God and had dead eyes like him I swear we could be best friends.

Sometimes we make eye contact on the train. It’s very uncomfortable too. He never looks away. I have never seen him with a book before today. Could this be a new learned skill of his?

My stomach doesn’t hurt even though I have consumed about 7 small sandwiches only about 2-3 hours earlier. I have also drank nothing but coffee. Yes I’m sweating but I thought it was because I’m wearing so many layers and according to my body mass index, I am severely overweight at 175 pounds.

The creep is watching the Tetris game that the black kid/man is playing. He got bored and looked away and back to his awful non-English book. Now the black guy is looking at the book wondering what game it is.

An older black man is near us too. He has huge pants. I think it’s MC Hammer. I should befriend someone, shout “I love you MC Hammer”, and then ask my new friend of he looked. Fuck he got off at Newport.

Why is everyone so fat? A fat guy in a red shirt just got on the train. He’s not offensively huge. He’s fat where you’d expect him to joke about it with friends. I don’t think he has any. I can hear his iPod and the music sucks. Nobody wants a friend with bad taste in music.

I can only see one woman on this train. I thought there were two but one was an adult Asian man.

The creep me be getting off. Nope. But the black guy did. He had to say “excuse me” twice to the fat guy in red. So polite of him to admit to farting not once but twice. I am glad he waited until he was ready to exit.

For a second it felt like my wallet was missing. It’s there. My ass is just too flat to fill out these pants.

Fuck a baby is crying. My transfer is almost here. I have internet service again so I’m going to keep uploading my Facebook page and see nothing new.