According to the amazingly accurate 10 question internet quiz I just took, I have 38 years and 4 months before I die…pass on, cease to be, kick the bucket, pass my expiration date, shuffle off this mortal coil…croak.
Which means that I will be riding off into the sunset in April 2052 at the age of 102.
The interesting thing about this highly accurate internet quiz is that there is no explanation after receiving the results. In other equally accurate tests I’ve taken, like what dog I was in the past (Husky), what dessert I am (cheesecake) and who I was during the Renaissance (Michelangelo) there was a couple of paragraphs about how those amazing revelations were ascertained.
But when they tell you the day you’ll die? Squat. Nothing.
It’s like the internet gods (or committee or thought team or offline focus group) just slammed down the mallet, read the verdict and then shouted “NEXT!”
Now this is a problem.
If one quiz told me I have 38 years to live and the next one says I’m 23, that means I’m a goner at age 61…two years ago!
Holy Crap…I’m a zombie!
I never really aspired to be a zombie. My Grandmother used to pass by us when we were locked into a Saturday Morning Cartoon trance and mutter “…sittin’ there like a bunch of damn zombies” before she went out to make candles or kill chickens or something.
There is a recent upsurge in zombies or zombieism. Zombies have been around for a long time. Even before Ed Sullivan there were zombies.
I worked at a movie theatre that every Saturday night showed The Night of the Living Dead – which is scarier than any zombie thing on TV today, except maybe The Worthless Housewives of Who Friggin’ Cares.
Embracing my recent zombie identification I set out to find what cool, hip, millennial zombies do.
Modern zombies seem to spend a lot of time just walking around. There are zombie walks, zombie parades, Zombie 5K’s. They also like to party. There were about 10,600,000 results results for Zombie Party on Google
Eating brains is something that is new to zombieism. It was never identified as undead behavior until video games and bad script writers decided to include it into zombie lore. I have never been a fan of eating brains of any kind. Brain cuisine seems to stem from the French (of course) and from countries that still use elephants as mass transit. All in all, not my cup of tea.
It takes a lot more work to be a zombie than to be the Hawaiian shirt guy…