zombieman's blog


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Not mine anymore; I think I’m past that stage of life. Now I have granddaughters, loads and loads of granddaughters with nary a grandson in sight. That’s okay really, I like kids and frankly the whole ‘boys’ and ‘girls’ thing doesn’t really become relevant until they are like 10 to 12 years old anyway. For now I can just enjoy watching little kids be little kids without worrying about them spilling on the rug or destroying my house. Mostly because I don’t give a shit about the rug or the house these days, but that’s what maturity gives you, you learn what’s important.

A Day in the Life of…

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I woke up at 04:50. I figured this was okay – I would have my early morning piss, crawl back under my double comforters and drift back to sleep. Mid-stream I remembered snatches of the dream I’d been having, I’m not one to dream of celebrities, but I do, on occasion dream about things I’ve read or watched. It was a surprise for me to dream of Henry Rollins, I was never a fan of his music when it was popular. That has changed as I’ve aged. Does he have fans now?


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I’ve had this reoccurring dream lately. It is reminiscent of the dreams I had when I was taking Aralen (a Malaria suppressant drug, Chloroquiene), which were incredibly vivid and many times downright shocking. The dream I’m having now is not of machete fighting in the rain and losing an arm (which was a favorite back in my Peace Corps days), no, this one is more mundane; I’m in school and haven’t attended one of my classes since the first week of the semester. It’s always the same class; Advanced Composition and excuses for not attending are myriad.

Young dogs and old cats

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I don’t particularly like cats. I’m allergic to some and this causes me to not be particularly friendly to any feline I might happen to meet. This isn’t, in general, a story about cats.


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Why am I spending so much time on “Those Who Mow” instead of TZC5?

Je suis Charlie?

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“I'd prefer to die on my feet than to live on my knees.” ~Stéphane Charbonnier

Stars everywhere

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It's been a weird month of dreaming for me. When I wake from a particularly viscous one my tendency is to lay real still and make sure none of it was coming true. As I lay there I can’t help but think of the ‘what ifs’ of the dream, what would have happened next? What if I had tried this instead of that? What if I am really, actually in a mental institute right now and I just think I work a 9 to 5? These little fantasies are amusing interludes before I fully awaken, firmly grasp reality by the tail and get myself back to sleep so I can get to my morning group session…er 9 to 5.


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