So aquinas_ sent me this song called 'Peach, Plum, Pear' by Joanna Newsom. I'm not sure what to think about it. She sounds sort of like a mixture between someone deaf and Björk. While there's nothing wrong with Björk, I can't say I really like listening to her. This Joanna Newsom, though. She's got something weird about her. I can't say I like her yet, but she's not bad. I keep hearing a million shrill-voiced Joanna Newsoms shreaking out 'Peach, Plum, Pear.' I can't get her out of my head, though. She's stuck in there like some kind of giant pervert's penis. Or maybe like some kind of pervert's giant penis. Either way it's stuck in your head.

I need to work on my similes. I can't believe I even frigging typed that. I'm gross. Not like that's going to make me back up and erase it, though. Eat it, LiveJournal.

Speaking of Gross:

I saw Team America: World Police. It wasn't bad. Not great either. I would have found it a lot funnier if I was twelve and still found 'fag' funny. Needed a lot more zombies, and blood.

Shit, if this gonna be that kinda party I'm gonna stick my dick in the mashed potatahs.

My friend Josh came up with this game that would be called either 'Disabled' or 'Retarded' Ops. It starts out seriously, with this terrorist attack on America. But the terrorist attack only ends up injuring one person, just cutting their arm a little, because they couldn't afford to send in a big enough bomb. They had plenty of gunpowder, just not the money for a ticket to get it up there. Anyway, so the U.S. can't stand for this. An attack on their country? They have to put the poor country responsible out of it's misery. Turns out it's just a tiny, tiny country that noone's ever heard of that ends in Stan. They need to do something so they don't lose face, but they don't want to waste their well-trained soldiers on such a silly mission, so they send in a platoon composed entirely of retards.

It'll be in the form of a real-time strategy game. You'll have units that you have to pay for like in WarCraft or StarCraft, but instead of a marine, they'll be in a wheel-chair, and between vomits, they'll fire off rockets. Not in the enemy's direction, just randomly until they run out of ammo. There'll be smarter ones that'll be given guns, but sometimes they'll just start beating themselves up and occasionally shoot themselves in the foot. I didn't think this game up, keep in mind. My brain doesn't quite think up stuff this twisted.

There was a Beach-Party thing for my church that I went to yesterday. I got terribly burned, and it actually still hurts right now. In fact, I'm not wearing a shirt so that I won't be screaming out in effing pain. I really should have worn some sun-screen, but as you know I'm an idiot and I didn't/wouldn't. My back was effing purple from the burn yesterday. It's gotten better, but not much. It still hurts like noone's business. I tried putting aloe vera on it, and this solar-caine pain-killing crap, but none of it does much of anything, really. I mean, it feels better, but not that better.

My older brother got me Diablo 2 for my birthday. The battle chest thing. I'm thinking that I'll start playing it a little bit. Not to much, since when I'm on the computer I usually like to be talking to people on ICQ, and that's pretty hard when you're trying to kill off a giant demon.

Anyway, I've just been waiting for my girlfriend to get on before I go to bed, but signs point to me sleeping without talking to her. Have a good night, you nerdy bastards.

Seriously, right up there. I'll offer them some hammers and nails if they'd rather be crucified. Because that's what they're begging for; to be sodomized, crucified, and quite possibly effing pasturized. Eat that improper semi-colon use. Eat. It.

So Zombie Fest '04 is coming up soon. I was going to get to describing that on here, but I never really bothered. Here's the deal. Last year, my friends and I went to see 28 Days Later. I decided, when we got home, that my birthday was now zombie-themed. This quickly grew to elaborate plans for the next year. These elaborate plans were made even more elaborate, and over the past month have become simpler, but are actually coming to effing hetero-ition.

I'm putting up a bunch of posters tommorow, 'round town, that just say 'Zombie Fest' on them. No time, no date, no place, no RSVP. Just pictures of zombie-stuff and the words zombie and fest, in that order. Some of them say 2004, but that doesn't really count.

Here are the plans:

The one constant throughout all of my plans was this: It was going to be the most zombie-action seen in my city all year. No other day would so much zombie be seen by anyone anywhere. If it was, then those zombies would be killed and eaten by my wicked zombies. This lead to a bunch of ideas. The first one was to have us all make a movie. I pushed that one aside pretty much at the last minute, last month, because I honestly have very little faith in my friends, and I think that they would have definitely ruined it.

So the movie idea turned into every single one of my friends turning up at my door dressed up as zombies, decked out from head to toe with blue blood. Dripping from them. That's the image in my head, at least. I'm not sure how it'll turn out in reality, probably not nearly as good. We're going to have a cake shaped like a brain, if I can manage that. So that everyone will have their proper taste of brains for the evening. Maybe in hopes of abating their unsatiable undead thirst for living human flesh.

Then we'll eat some pizza from my favourite place.

Then we'll drag out undead rears out into the public eye. We'll go to a public park and moan and shamble out way across playgrounds, maybe play some frisbee. Maul unsuspecting passerbies. You know how it is. Generally have a ball at the expense of the rest of the city.

Then we'll go back to my house and watch Night and Return of the Living Dead.

Being an idiot and shambling around is pretty much all I want in life.