Spent about five hours helping a couple of friends (and baby!) move today. It was one of those events that seemed like it was going to take a couple of hours, and then, five hours later, it was done. I guess there was just a bit more stuff than planned. Oh, and narrow stairs that kind of changed height at the bottom. At least one tumble occured. I smashed my head into the overhang near the bottom. Somehow, somewhere, I took a flattened pea sized chunk out of my thumb. It hurts, but not too bad, as long as I don't look at it. Once it knows it has my attention, it turns into my enemy, again.
Moving is awesome exercise. I remember one summer (the one I sobriquet with "...of Hell") where I moved and I helped move a couple of other people and then helped a couple of other people move a couple of other people. I think there was close to double digits in moves that summer. I was actually pretty fit in the arms and legs after that. It's the job that keeps on giving. However, as today attests, I have not ever been able to move without smashing bit of skin off. That sucks, and how.
Outside of the whole move situation, not a whole lot has been going on. I have been reading an anthology called The Living Dead. It came out a couple of years ago. It has a collection of zombie stories (I think all are reprints) but mixes it up between survival tales, meta-zombies (stories about people talking about zombies, but no real undead), not-quite-zombies, Romero-zombs, "Return"-zombs, traditional zombs, MTV zombs, and so forth. Some of the best have been from the most establsihed, David Schow's "Blossom" is a great one, Cliver Barker's "Sex, Death, and Starshine" is a good mix of Barkerisms and kind of traditional undeadness. Stephen King's "Home Delivery" has some issues but is totally readable. My favorite, right now, is Joe Hill's "Bobby Conroy Comes Back From the Dead" which is a meta-zombie tale about two ex-lovers meeting on the set of Dawn of the Dead and dealing with the fact that their past dreams are gone.
That, and I have been chugging through the Gantz manga. Surreal hyperviolence. I've talked about it before. It really just about the most addicting thing, ever. I finally picked a spot and said I would come back to it.
Oh, and I got the Daimajin trilogy. Think "kaiju" except Feudal era Japan and the giant "monster" is actually a giant warrior who seems to only show up to smash things. It is quite different from standard Kaiju fair.
Ok, that wraps up my current state. Well, with one thing missing. I got a birthday card from my mom today. It said "You are still my baby". It was sweet.
Si Vales, Valeo
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Written by Doug Bolden
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