Monday, February 4, 2013

Whimper Giggle and Rubber Recycling

WARNING: So those of you that know my father will be able to do that thing like when you see a bit of text and a picture of Morgan Freeman, you'd be physically unable to read that bit of text without hearing Morgan Freeman's voice.  For those of you that don't know my father, just pretend he's Morgan Freeman.  That being said, let's do this.

Tonight at work, I get a phone call from someone requesting information about a mission.  After my standard ultra professional greeting, she says "Hi! My name is *Birdy Vanderplopapoo* from Task Force *Doesn't Matter*."

And in my best My Dad voice, I say "Well hi!  How are you doing tonight?" (See warning above.)

Birdy Vanderplopapoo then proceeds with the conversation completely dismantled and kept dismantling for the next 4 minutes.  She started making self-deprecating jokes about losing track of days because she worked nights.  Which was completely innocent in itself, but I could hear her self confidence absolutely unravel.

And then came the whimper giggle.

After everything I said like "Yes I received your email," "Thank you very much," and "I just so happened to have already taken care of it," she would just wilt over the phone with her whimper giggle.

Now we've all seen the movies where the shy, awkward, teen girl talks to the most popular cock who spends too much money on his hair.  I'm not saying this is anything like that, but if you were to draw a comparison from that, I wouldn't blame you.

Who would've thought that my My Dad voice would weaken the knees of the meek?  Not me.

Zombie Tip:

So I know that my last Zombie Tip hinted at an elaborate encampment set up with lots of planning and construction.  Well here's a tip for what you could do in the meantime.

Most of you have tried the agility drill where you run through a group of tires trying not to trip.  Have you ever done it flawlessly?  Plausible.  Have you ever fallen on your face because your foot got caught on the inner lip of tire?  Absolutely.  After all of the gasoline is used up and all of the abandoned automobiles have been abandoned, collect the tires.  Once said tires have been collected, use the tires as a trip moat, so to speak.

Setting up a perimeter of otherwise unused tires around your compound, encampment, bunker, or cushion fort, should slow the walkers enough to buy you valuable time to run or aim, decrease spent calories through diminished construction endeavors, increase the visibility of your overwatch, and boost your group's morale because watching zombies fall all over themselves has got to be new pastime worthy.  

If zombies have a weakness, it'd be that they're clumsy, and we'd be downright silly if we didn't exploit this.

Food for thought.

Bonus lesson from this tip: tire irons make great zombie defense weapons.

Friday, January 11, 2013

Fort Expletive and Surviving the Undead Eaters with The Eaters of the Dead

So, out of the blue, I received an email from a Sergeant First Class of the United States Army (SFC *Monosexual*).  It was just two attached pictures with "Pic you might like" in the subject line, no text in the email body.

Here is the first picture:
Fine.  It's zombie-related.  I'm the zombie guy.  I get it.  Cute.

And here's the next picture:


Here is the email thread that followed (names have obviously been changed and grammar is in it's original purity):


SFC *Monosexual*,

I also like making forts.  Coincidently, I also like fucking in forts.  However, while I am flattered that a guy so into himself would even notice and consider me for a fort fuck, I must regretfully decline.  I like vagina sex so much that I do not wish to try something new.

Very respectfully,
SSG *EATME*
Girl Lover
 

And then his reply:

I do believe that being on night shift has slanted your minds' eye!  If you read what I wrote, it said pics you might like, and in no way, fashion, or form did it proposition or imply.  I sincerely hope that you don't think that I, SFC *Monosexual*, am gay!  And just to clarity, if I "were" a gay, I am sure that I could do much better than SSG *EATME*.  I don't just "like" vagina sex,  I worship, love, and desire it and it only!  As for not trying something new, I find it hard to believe that a married man with multiple children and carries a purse out it the open of his own accord, isn't willing to try something new.  Don't think I haven't noticed how you look at *this captain of the United States Army* on a daily basis.  I see the catty smile you try to hide back when he says shift change!  I see the light in your eyes when you guys grab your stuff and leave.  Does he know about this deep hidden, primal affection you have for him?  Don't worry, I promise not to tell him anything, just thought you might want to know that we have noticed and you might want to work on keeping that affection on the "DL" if you don't want another rumor going around.  Remember, it is only rumor until someone finds evidence!  I will never tell!

This message will self-destruct in 5.......4..........3.........2........1.......

P.S. that pic was suppose to be a unicorn doing the butt drag with a rainbow skid mark.

 Finally my unanswered reply:


SFC *Monosexual*,

It's funny you mention *this captain of the United States Army*.  From the words he uses in the office while watching movies mostly, I have given him the label "homophobe".  I mentioned to him that I find the amount of compliments he gives me peculiar considering he's one of the biggest homophobes I know.  After relaying that story to a certain unnamed SFC, I was corrected.  This certain unnamed SFC followed with another story about how while he was getting out of the shower and drying off, *this captain of the United States Army* decided it was a good idea to invade this certain unnamed SFC's personal space and get ready to take the same shower stall before this certain unnamed SFC had cleared the area. 

All of that being said, I just read the same style of homophobia in your last email below.  It's almost like *this captain of the United States Army* and you have coordinated stories to make sure you get on the same page.  While I don't judge your lifestyle choices and I can't stop you from lying to me, I highly recommend that you don't lie to yourselves.  The news is riddled with tragic stories of the damaging mental effects of pretending to be something you're not. I have no doubt of your adoration of vagina sex.  However, I believe you also wouldn't necessarily turn down a penis in the butt/mouth.

I was taken off guard that you, of all people, sent me a fort fuck proposition out of the blue.  I truly thought you were a monosexual.  Honestly, I didn't blame you for also choosing me (especially knowing now that you've been with *this captain of the United States Army*), but that was before I knew you were into humans other than yourself. 

Reading your confession in your last email about watching me, it must have been torture to have waited this long to finally say something.  To curb your distress, I will say again, that while flattered that a monosexual would even notice me, I will decline your advance and all future advances.  It may hurt for now, but now you know for sure.

With a platonic hand shake,
SSG *EATME*
 

Zombie Tip:

Speaking of forts...

Excerpt from Chapter Four, The Eaters of the Dead by Michael Crichton

Now in this marshy region we stopped at a place they called Trelburg, which was a wonder to me. Here is no town, but rather a military camp, and its people are warriors, with few women or children among them. The defenses of this camp of Trelburg are constructed with great care and skill of workmanship in the Roman fashion.
Trelburg lies at the joining point of two wyks, which then run to the sea. The main part of the town is encircled by a round earthwork wall, as tall as five men standing one atop the other. Above this earthen ring there stands a wooden fence for greater protection. Outside the earthen ring there is a ditch filled with water, the depth I do not know.
These earthworks are excellently made, of a symmetry and quality to rival anything we know. And there is this further: on the landward side of the town, a second semicircle of high wall, and a second ditch beyond.
The town itself lies within the inner ring, which is broken by four gates, facing the four corners of the earth. Each gate is barred by strong oaken doors with heavy fittings of iron, and many guards. Many guards also walk the ramparts, keeping watch day and night.
Inside the town stand sixteen wooden dwellings, all the same: they are long houses, for so the Northmen call them, with walls that curve so that they resemble overturned boats with the ends cut flat front and back. In length they are thirty paces, and wider in the middle portion than either end. They are arranged thus: four long houses precisely set, so as to form a square. Four squares are arranged to make sixteen houses in all.
Every long house has but one entrance, and no house has its entrance within sight of another. I inquired why this was so, and Herger said thus: “If the camp is attacked, the men. must run to defense, and the doorways are such that the men can hasten without mingling and confusion, but on the contrary each man can proceed freely to the task of defense.”
Thus it is within the square that one house has a north door, the next house an east door, the next house a south door, the next house a west door; so also each of the four squares.
Then also I saw that while the Northmen are gigantic, these doorways were so low that even I must bend in two to enter one of the houses. I inquired of Herger, who said: “If we are attacked, a single warrior may remain inside the house, and with his sword cut off the heads of all who enter. The door is low so that heads will be bent for cutting.”
Verily, I saw that in all respects the Trelburg town was constructed for warfare and for defense. No trading is conducted here at all, as I have said. Inside the long houses, there are three sections or rooms, each with a door. The center room is the largest, and it also has a pit for rubbish.
Now, this book became a movie where Zorro was an Arabic poet with a Latin accent and fought bear-mascoted dirty people with Vikingish white dudes.  Good movie.

Point is, this excerpt is an excellent blueprint for setting up a post-zombie-apocalyptic encampment.  The walls, the moat, the longhouse positioning, the door construction and purpose (my personal highlight), and even the positioning of the camp itself between two streams.

Now, in my camp that I'm building in my mind (that all of the zombies crave more than yours), there will definitely be areas for agriculture, livestock, smithing, and congregating, but this is an excellent start.  Food for thought.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

A Land Far, Far Away and Land Far, Far, Well Not That Far Away

I miss stuff:
I miss my wife and pushing her buttons (not like that you nasty perv...well...nevermind).  I miss my oldest daughter constantly being upside-down and her ability to sneak and startle me.  I miss my youngest daughter's horse sense and raccoonism (she will climb and find food and then stash it around the house to eat later)(We feed her, don't start that judgmental crap with me).  I miss my dog being treated as a boy dog (he should be chasing squirrels and rabbits and cats, not wearing sweaters and bows).  I miss my cooking.  I miss most of my wife's cooking.  I miss working with people accountable for knowing how to do their jobs.  I miss my 45 minute one-way commute.  I miss 40-hour work weeks.  I miss lunches with my friends at my favorite lunch joints downtown in the city I work.  I miss rum.  I miss not wearing PT belts and eyepro everywhere.   I miss margaritas.  I miss having choices that don't affect others.  I miss when other people's choices don't affect me.  I miss playing disc golf.  I miss the drama in disc golf league.  I miss having my own desk.  I miss going to the gun range.  I miss my stay-cold pillow.  I miss having deep, meaningful conversations about zombie biologies, zombie tactics, other miscellaneous zombie theories.  I miss stuff.

I don't mean to bring you down, Bruce, but this is my blog, so you can get eaten by zombies if you think this is too mopey to read and learn from.  Also, don't take that as a personal attack.  You're too sensitive.



Zombie tip:

I've traveled for work to most of the states still a part of these United States.  One thing I've noticed, while moving from the airport to the job site, is that there are WIDE, OPEN SPACES in every state.  Let me say that again with more emphasis.  WIDE.  OPEN.  DAMN.  SPACES.  Now what this means in terms of zombie survival is this: remote bug out havens don't have to be out of reach. Consider this, when the panic hits, a metric assload of those panicking panickers will become zombies (they should've read my work) all while the other honey bunches of panicking panickers will be evacuating.  Probably somewhere North, mountainous, or both.  Jury is still out on whether zombies freeze and die, freeze and thaw, or be altogether unaffected by the temperature drop, but many survivors will bank on slower, frozen zombies.  So they'll go where it's cold.  Crowds are dangerous.  Where crowds are present, so too will be zombies.  Crowds will be where crowds have been (cities) and where they're going (Destination Frozone)  There is a saying you should forget, "Safety in numbers."  Numbers should remain relatively low as to remain undetected and agile.

So, knowing now that cities, Northern and/or mountainous locations, and the routes in which to get there will be crammed with walker bait, don't go there.  Bug out somewhere remote, but what I'm saying is, remote is not that far away.  Remote is everywhere.  Get off the highway and you'll be there soon.  You won't have to stock up on gear for an unfamiliar climate.  You already have it in your closets.  You don't have to scavenge libraries or bookstores for literature on unfamiliar flora and fauna (didn't work for Christopher McCandless either).  Just learn what's around you...now.  Food for thought.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Captain Conundrum and The Wet Work

Holy crap.  This deployment has made me rethink my education choices of my youth.  I currently work for a person with a college degree.  He currently makes twice as much as me.  My 9 year old daughter has a better mastery of the English language and my 5 year old daughter has much better critical thinking skills.  This captain in the United States Army will not live by one of my mantras: Stop.  Think.  Look around.  Then talk.  I say it all of the time because, well, that's what a mantra is.  This captain of the United States Army makes up words.  This captain of the United States Army will not read.  This guy will say aloud his thought processes in the form of questions to those of us in his section, fully expecting us to fill in the blanks.  Oh Sweet Marmalade, How Big Those Blanks Are?!  I've told this captain of the United States Army that I think I should volunteer at the medical clinic, because I'm pretty sure they could use a crutch too.

I've started writing down just a small smattering of words and phrases this captain of the United States Army has graced us with:

"abstronomical" astronomical

"exkoozenary" qualifying for exception

"signinnify" signify

"rooeen" ruin

"linereeage" lineage

"sholldjers" soldiers

"thoroull" thorough (This one is fun because he asked how to spell it as in thoroullness and actually argued because he "could've sworn that it had an L".)

"Kytigeronda" Ticonderoga (Now I can't tell you why, but the word Ticonderoga comes up in conversation several times weekly.  It has been one of my highlights every time he attempts this gem.)

"I never did join any sororities or anything like that."

"Obama didn't win the popular vote.  He only won the electrical votes."  (I followed that up with "I'm checking Google right now, but I think he got the plumbing votes though.")

I'm not going into his tactical choices and questions.  Just know, they're jaw-dropping.

Basically, I've come to this conclussion: This captain of the United States Army did not graduate college without someone else actually doing the work for him.  So I guess that means he's pretty resourceful; however, I'm growing tired of being one of his resources.

I will try to update this word list in the comments as new, amazing words and -isms as they come along.

Zombie Tip:

When choosing a zombie-destroying weapon, keep in mind that fluid transfer is a real threat.  Creating distance and/or a cleaner kill should, at least, be a factor in your selection process.  Firearms and other projectile weapons are the obvious choice for creating distance (unless, of course, you should use an avoidance defense as mentioned in a previous article), but remember you have finite resources.  Properly used blades could provide for quick, mid- to short-range kills, but you must be mindful of the removal of the blade so you don't infect your entire attack area with medium velocity gray matter splatter (reference CSI and Dexter).  Blunt weapons would limit the amount of splatter (results may vary), but shorter range may or may not limit your effectiveness and ability to discourage to death multiple attacker.  Point is, find your weapon, practice as often as practical, and keep the zombie juicy juice out of your holes.  Food for thought.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Been a Long Time and Timing Could Have Been Timed Better.

Sorry for the inactivity.  There, the formalities are out of the way.

Currently, I'm am deployed to Afghanistan with the Army National Guard from my state.  I've been here a few months and have decided to spend some of my time letting you kids know about some of the interesting and absurd and otherwise-labeled people and events that I have experienced.

First off, a little background: I work in an office.  I work in an office for 12 hours almost every night.  I am in a battalion headquarters position.  I monitor and report from 3 separate computer systems of varying security levels and 5 monitors.  Sounds fancy. 

I have several stories already, and it seems silly as a blogger to unload all of them right here, right now (great, now that song's stuck in my head).

So I've come to find out that people are nasty.  Some of these people that are fighting for your freedom are coming back from their respective office jobs, staying in their uniforms, even keeping their boots on, going straight to bed, waking up late, and coming back to work in week old clothes and underclothes.  Some of these people that are fighting for your freedom like to shave their short hairs in common areas and wait for the hired contractors to clean up after them a day later.  One guy took a dump in the shower...twice.  And just to clarify, it wasn't emergency-style poo, it was a full-on turd...twice.  Didn't even hide it.  Like I said, "nasty".  If you have a deployed service member in your family, please encourage them to clean themselves.  Don't force them to spend every waking, non-working moment Skyping with you.  Tell them to clean themselves and stop embarrassing you.  Just saying.

Zombie tip:

So it really is a shame that TEOTWAWKI  is supposed to happen while I'm over here.  All of that prepping (by reading the Internets) and I can't go home to bug out.  So today's zombie tip is when prepping and training, include your family and friends.  However, when you include your family and friends, make sure you've vetted them.  While it's to be expected that the leaders and the led will fall into place over time, you must insure that the leaders and the led do not become the crutches and the moochers from the start.  Everyone contributes.  Everyone preps.  Everyone is responsible for their own survival.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Gifted Gift-Giving Givers and Don't Feed The Mouth That Bites You

The Quivering Chin (Mom) recently remarked on Facebook that she has 3 unopened bottles of Eskimo Joe's Juke Joint Jazz (a local meat rub that is not Alaskan).  She then states that she has so many because they were probably going to be stocking stuffers.  This reminded me that I haven't told you guys that my parents have amazing abilities at giving presents.  Thought I'd give you the highlights*:

  • Spatula
  • Can of Peas
  • Almost every kind of barbecue sauce you can find at the store
  • A print out of a movie review of a Jim Carrey movie
  • Scooby Doo everything
  • Cartoon ties
  • A Yanni t-shirt
  • A patriotic Sylvester and Tweety t-shirt
  • Can of Raisin Brown Bread (I got this in March and was told they forgot to give this to me for Christmas)
  • Stuffed or Clay Teddy Bears (This represents many, many gifts.  There was about 4 years straight that they would bring me a bear every time we saw them.  This has no meaning, and they have never asked where they all are.)
  • Year You Were Born books (I've lost count as to how many of these things I've received.  I did get the exact same publication on 2 adjacent birthdays.  This also includes What Famous People Share Your Birthday type books.)
  • Jeff Gordon paraphernalia (Several years ago, I started to watching NASCAR as a way to have something in common with my in-laws.  My parents heard this news and presented me with a Jeff Gordon t-shirt, a Jeff Gordon ball cap, and a Jeff Gordon beer stein for my birthday.  The Wife actually fell on the floor laughing because her whole family HATED Jeff Gordon at the time and she told my parents that I probably hated Jeff Gordon more than I liked any other driver.  Hallmark Pop (Dad) then explained that I "could just trade it with my buddies".)
  • A birthday card with a muscular, well-oiled male posing on a rocky beach in a Speedo (because I also liked to work out)

*Note: all items listed were received after I married The Wife.


Zombie tip:
I've been following a television show on AMC named The Walking Dead.  It's a gripping story of a group of survivors currently and occasionally surviving a zombie apocalypse.  The comic it's based on is much better.  Anyway, the point here is not to plug this.  The point here is to help you to prevent some of the mistakes made on the show (no worries, these are not plot related spoilers).

  1. Everyone fights.  Leaving it to the menfolk is dumb and suicidal.
  2. If you are lucky enough to have a crossbow with bolts or a bow with arrows, NEVER LEAVE A BOLT/ARROW BEHIND!  Pick up after yourself, reuse, repeat.
  3. STOP PUNCHING ZOMBIES IN THE FACE.  People fight all the time.  Fighting very often leaves bloody knuckles.  And if the science of the show can be believed, zombies don't have lips.  This means that zombie's primary weapon is bared and ready to transfer his fluid into you.  You already know to stay away from the pointy parts of swords and the blasty ends of gun barrels.  Quit trying to cut your knuckles in a zombie's mouth.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

The Heart of the City and "Learn how punch, after you learn how keep dry!"

The other day while returning to my car after work with a coworker, a young man rode up to us on his bicycle with a messenger bag in his lap (you're doing it wrong) and interrupted our conversation with, "Skooze me, do you guys like jazz?"


"No."


"Oh.  Okay.  Have you ever heard of Chet Baker?"


Exchanging side eyes, we both say, "No."


"He has about 200 albums out and played with, like, Miles Davis."


"Neat." "Cool."


"Okay.  Thanks."  And then he tried to ride away, but he slipped off his pedal caught a bike in his nuts.  Then he rolled away...slowly.


This episode reminded me of how much I love downtown and its rich characters (they're really the 99%).  Here are my top three downtown story crushes in order:


#3 - I work in a building that has a local bank branch on the ground floor.  To advertise their whereabouts and loan specials, they post posters in a decorative glass poster encasement just outside the doors.  At this particular time of year, they had a poster with an attractive, ethnically ambiguous female smiling next to the free checking marketing.  Well one of the downtown street roommates (99 percenter) found this to be too good to be true.  So looking deep into the poster's eyes, he whispered what I imagine to be the most romantic of pillow talk while playing one of the most violent games of pocket pool I've ever heard of.  All while my friends and I stood there with the expressions of train wreck watchers.  The next day there was still the teardrop smudge of his nose, mouth, and chin on the glass blurring her face.  It was a beautiful reminder of love in the city.


#2 - I was filling out the application to get a library card at the downtown library.  A gentlemanly woman wearing clothes too warm for the season strides in with intensity and a hint of panic.  She asks the matronly librarian if she had seen a man with a forgettable description.  Something about a hat and a backpack.  She could have just described Short Round from Temple of Doom for all I know.  Anyway, the librarian says that she hadn't seen anyone that matches that description.  Then the panicky woman explains the reason finding this man was so important by telling all that could hear, "Well, I was supposed to meet him here.  We were supposed to f%*k."  I tensed up trying to not react before she walked away and I broke the pen in my hand.  It was a beautiful reminder of love in the city.


#1 - A coworker and I were coming back from lunch.  We heard yelling and screaming from a singular voice and identified the source as a borderline feral lady with some amazingly pinchable meth cheeks stomping down the middle of a busy downtown street.  There were lots of "f%*k you"s and the like, but we were more concerned as to why this human was so irate.  We looked up and down the street and finally saw a gentleman conspicuously trying to be inconspicuous mall-walking down the sidewalk and we figured this was the focus of the rant.  Then we heard very clearly from Meth Cheeks, "You loved me last night, you could love me again today! F%*K YOU!!!"  My coworker and I jumped and cheered and quickly ran inside.  It was a beautiful reminder of love in the city.


Zombie tip: Lots of websites will try to sell you on the point that weapons are the most important item on your zombie preparedness list.  This site is not one of them.  Find something blunt that has multiple purposes (hammer, lug wrench, Mag light, wrecking bar, folding shovel, lead pipe, candlestick from the conservatory,...) and run away.  Avoidance of the threat is the best defense.  Blades have a chance with getting stuck in your attacker and you would hate to cut yourself, wouldn't you?  Guns draw attention whilst requiring a supply source of ammo to be of any use.  Not saying those are bad choices if that's what you've got, but they'd be better used for defending yourself from cannibal bandits or for hunting.


The most important thing to consider is where are you getting clean water or food?  If all you saved are bullets, you might as well eat one.  TV and Movies seem to diminish the importance of food, water, and sleep.  Doesn't sell.  During your avoidance defense, you've got to be prepared to replace the calories you are burning and stay hydrated.  Save your non-perishables, learn to hunt, fish, trap, and forage, start a farm.  Dig a well, harvest rain water and clean it, bug out to a spring, stream, or spring-/stream-fed lake, build a water tank.  Or join a band of cannibal bandits and pool your resources.