Zombie squirrel theater. And other tales of woe.

(Megan drew this amazingly detailed reinactment of my encounter with a raging zombie-squirrel last summer. I know it looks like a cat, but it's a squirrel. Really. And I look like the rampaging living dead rodent has stripped my flesh. Note the boots. That girl's got a natural talent with a No. 2, I tell you.)

"You may have a zombie survival plan. But do you have a zombie squirrel survival plan?"

We interrupt this blog to bring you an important message from the National Office of Zombie Prevention.

As a responsible citizen, you should have your Zombie Survival Guide handy at all times. Your life, and the lives of those closest to you, may depend on it. A good defense is vital. Know your rights as a a still-living and productive member of society. Protect yourself against the hordes of evil undead that are slowly cropping up around you, even as you read this. You may have difficulty at first telling them apart from Republicans and religious fundamentalists. But look for the signs, and stay alert. This message endorsed by Stephen Hawking. And your mom. Who is definitely not a zombie.

Now back to your regularly scheduled blogging.

There is a giant, gaping hole in my front living room wall. This brings me joy. Although - I hear that there may be...uh...problems. It's always something, isn't it?

And if I were at work right now I would seriously be kicking someone's ass. Multiple someone's. Sweet creamery butter, people!