The unfolding…

Okay, I was going to limit myself to one post a day, for my own sanity if nothing else, but then I found this:

Click to embiggen. (opens in a new window)

I don’t know who the artist is.  If you do, tell me, please!  This is the most horrifically beautiful thing I’ve seen in quite some time.  I found it on a Russian Live Journal photoblog called мисс “пардоньте за сиськи”, which near as I can figure translates to “Miss ‘Pardon for Boobs'”.  There are some quite interesting pieces of art and photography on there.  As you can imagine from the name, a good chunk of it is NSFW.  But hey, where else are you going to find boobs on the internet?

Be seeing you.
Brian.

“We don’t use the ‘Z’ word” – a 200 word story

Of COURSE I had a will when I died.  Left everything to my wife.  She doesn’t want anything to do with me now.  Guess I can’t blame her.   Comets pass the Earth all the goddamn time, and don’t do anything but give cults a reason to off themselves.  How the fuck was I supposed to know this one’s different?

Shit, I’m just glad I went from a damned heart attack.  I don’t smell too pretty, but at least I’ve got an intact brain.  There’s a reason you don’t see too many accident victims or stroke patients looking to get back into the world.  A little too close to the Romero standard, y’know?

Anyway, now that the dead are back and looking for work, they’re taking all the jobs that the illegals and high school kids used to take.  Well, not fast food.  We’ve got some standards.  The guy that owns this place, his kid drowned in their pool, so he’s got some sympathy for us Post-Mortem Americans.

So that’s my story.  Now, unless you want me to eat your brains, I humbly suggest you buy your smokes and lottery tickets and get the fuck out.  Thanks for shopping at Z-Mart.