Heather Cox interviews me at Ghost Ocean Magazine and I try not to sound too weird.
Today, at Stately Slaviero Manor:
M: Let's watch a movie.
S: Zombies or Cannibals?
M: Does it matter?
S: Does it have to be in English?
I am feeling funky and anxious and all varieties of ick. I want to be kickass for a middle-aged woman yet mostly I am afraid of bees and car accidents and making people angry, which seems rather uncool to me. I dreamed my left hand was a lobster claw, which probably has something to do with arthritis. Next, I will dream that my spine is a broken chainsaw and my brain is a bowl of potato salad. Yeah.
I watched a movie about cannibals tonight and M fell asleep. It was predictable.
At one point Michael Madsen said, "Come tomorrow I'll be gnawing on your bones" and I snickered. No, really.
Why do cannibals always file their teeth into sharp points and wear fur boots in horror movies? Hannibal Lecter is much scarier than mace-carrying savages because the man is civilized (for a cannibal, anyway).
A predictable movie about cannibals. It's true. Maybe I will fare better with the Zombies.
I am celebrating labor day by working. Hopefully, this will be followed by an evening of wine and horror movies, but I'll probably just clean up the mess and fall asleep. Awesome.
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