Braaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnsssssss

So, I'm a zombie now. I don't remember how it happened (I don't remember dinner), but I think one ate my brains a couple days ago. That's the only explanation I can think of for my slurred speech, black-hole eyes, and rigid, twitching leg muscles. Rigor mortis has set in, my skin's a mess, and I can't begin to think of a third thing to end this sentence. Zombies don't have any use for the rule of three.


Sue, Varian, and Erik are currently trying to decide whether to use an axe, a bullet to the brain, or electricity to do the job. Friendship means not letting you go on a murderous, brain-eating rampage just because you haven't slept or exercised in nine days.

I'm filling out my end-of-residency evaluations, and by graduation tomorrow afternoon, I will have attended 17 lectures, 6 workshop sessions, and 5 talks by visiting writers; I will have attended roughly 10 readings and given 2.

When you kill me, remember to separate my head from my body so I won't regenerate. Thanks guys.

Grrrrrrrraaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhh!