I WILL EAT YOUR BRAINS
With apologies to Aphex Twin.
The zombie pub crawl this year is on September 9th, 2006. I expect you to be there in full zombie drag. If you can’t get your own makeup together, have a voodoo priestess actually kill you and raise you from the dead again. I did, and I feel great.
Warning: do not let the fake blood touch anything that you cannot steam clean. Gross.
I would do anything for brains!
But you won’t come to the zombie pub crawl.
WHERE ARE YOUR PRIORITIES???????!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?
sobbing uncontrollably… unconsoleably
I’ll be there. Even if we can’t get a sitter, this year is my turn!
Can’t get a sitter? Can’t GET A SITTER? Honey, that’s what zombie grammas are for.
But aren’t you coming to the pub crawl too?!?!
By definition, my mother is not allowed to come with on a night when I am likely to get drunk enough to have a charcoal push. I’m just saying.
Okay. Your mom is now booked to babysit Noah. Stan and I will be there with a bag of liquid charcoal and an IV.