Post-Apocalyptic Interlude

I've been really busy...

Busy running from aliens and fighting off the undead.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, it's because the invasion hasn't happened in your part of the world yet.

It all happened so fast and is difficult to explain. Just watch the video...

And download the album here. These are songs that can save the world, or at least give you something to rock out to before the zombies arrive in your town.

Peace and love, comrades. Stay strong in these strange times. I hope to communicate with you again in the near future.

Here's A Little Something From The Vault...

I was digging through my old notebooks today and I found something so laughably horrific that I felt the need to share it with you guys.

It was a screenplay idea that I came up with in college and apparently it was very short-lived because I don't remember much about it.  Somehow, the concept got an entire notebook devoted to it (but only three pages have writing on them).

I've had a lot of good ideas in my life, but this is not one of them.  Without further ado, I present...

Yes, you read that right.  This zombie apocalypse comes with a beat!  I enjoy the fact that even though the word "musical" is crossed out, the whole shabang is still "eurodance-themed."  I also enjoy the multiple misspellings.  Looks like Lauren The 20-Year-Old College Kid needed some sleep!

But wait!  There's more!

 

If you don't want to take the time to read that mess, all you need to know is this:  Apparently the zombie apocalypse begins because some moron flushes the wrong chemicals down the toilet.  Also, the main character is a hot DJ with pink hair and the story takes place in either the future or 1997 (I couldn't decide).

The next page has a vague plot outline and a lot of arrows.  The only part worth sharing is this:

Suddenly, it's a social commentary as well as a eurodance-themed musical/romance/thriller/comedy.

And then, there are the characters...

I think I thought I was clever because Max Tekramkcots is an accountant and his last name is "stock market" backwards.  And apparently, the main character falls in love with a cute British zombie who is also a scientist who sometimes wears a fez.  

There are pictures (complete with obscure song recommendations!):

Yes, apparently the zombies go to Costco at some point and get down to Ice MC.  And I guess the British zombie guy's name is Romero?  What a subtle homage to George Romero.  Again, I probably I thought I was being clever.  

Also, when has the word "friggin" EVER been in my vocabulary?

It's not surprising that this idea only lasted three pages.  

Anyway, that's all I've got.  I'm going to scuttle off to the kitchen to brew up some tea before I can further embarrass myself in the blogiverse.  

Peace out, amigos.  Be careful about flushing suspicious chemicals down the toilet and, as always, beware of zombies that like techno music.  <3

The Coming Apocalypse...and IKEA

Today I went to IKEA.  I go there sometimes when I need furniture, Swedish meatballs, or sitcom material.  I swear that when you walk through the doors of IKEA, you walk into an alternate universe.  It's a place of magic and wonder.  A place of happiness and lingenberry juice.  A place where all of the books on the display shelves are entirely in Swedish and most of the male employees are not only very attractive, but very gay.  I could stay there for hours.  In fact, I think it's physically impossible to go there for less than an hour.  I think I was there for at least two this afternoon (in my defense, it's on the other side of town and I don't get to go very often).  I went in with the purpose of scouting out a new bed frame and ended up buying an area rug and a toilet brush.

Hey, it was a cute rug.  And how could I pass up a 99 cent toilet brush?

On another note, if and when the zombie apocalypse happens, I am totally making a run for IKEA.  It's like a small, stylistically furnished village.  Once inside, I would have everything I need and could live for days, maybe even months.  The amount of time I could survive in an IKEA all depends on how long the supply of meatballs lasts. 

Of course, there is the possibility that this sanctuary would be guarded by a small army of undead IKEA employees.  But the kitchen utensil department is generally full of things that I could use to kill zombies upon my arrival.  I bet I could smack a bunch of them in the head with a rolling pin.  Or maybe I could just recklessly hurl cutlery at them from across the floor. 

Okay, so nothing in my current personality suggests that I would be capable of such a bad ass, Kill Bill-esque move.  But I hear that zombie apocalypses bring out the best in people. 

With my luck, I would probably end up encountering zombies right next to the salad tongs, egg beaters, and whisks.  And then I would be stuck trying to take on a whole horde with my salad tongs of fury.  So uncool. 

I feel like this wasn't what I intended to write about when I sat down to write this post.  Ah well, it's never a bad time to think about the coming apocalypse, right?

That's all I've got tonight.  Over and out, comrades. 

A Post About Nothing

Ra ra ra-aaa-aaa. Lady Gaga is stuck in my head. It's almost noon and I'm barely done with my first cup of coffee. I need to get a lot done today. I've got a lot of articles and assorted rubbish on my hard drive that needs to be printed out and shipped off to possibly be published. I've decided to give this whole freelance writer life a serious shot. It's overwhelming though. I've been feeling a lot like Bambi in the 1969 short animation "Bambi meets Godzilla." Poor Bambi doesn't have a chance in that film. But I digress. Maybe if I drink another cup of coffee out of my giant Chesire Cat cup that Steve brought me from Disneyland, the world will seem brighter. Or maybe I'll just become even more anxious. Whatever. Maybe I'll just return to my daily Craigslist surfing. There are some good things on there today.
Of course, there are also some ridiculous things:

Need mass of pirates, zombies, ninjas and cylons for production shoot.
Will provide blood, booze and food.
Must provide own costume, be able to lift 30lbs and sprint short distances.
Respond with relevant info- skills/strengths and previous experience in related career tracks. Prior convictions okay.

Okay, so I'm sitting here laughing at that post, but really I'm just secretly sad I don't own a ninja costume. Maybe I could make my own zombie costume. All I need is oatmeal all over my face and ketchup dripping down my neck, right?

Bleck. It's official - this is a post about nothing. I will do something productive today! I will! Just you wait. I'm gonna kick into high gear starting...now. BAM!

Over and out, amigos. I'm off like a herd of turtles.

Trash Rock Defined on the Interwebs

The following is copied from dictionary.com:

trash rock - 1 dictionary result Main Entry:	trash rock
Part of Speech:	n
Definition:	a genre of rock music that is loud and unsophisticated
Etymology:	from the music's garbage-like nature
Usage:	music

And this is from urbandictionary.com:

	1. trash rock
	Trashy, seedy, campy rock n' roll with an often androgynous, drunk/drugged out, and b-movie-obsessed disposition. Many trash rock bands are punks reviving the feel of the raunchiest '60s garage bands.
	Hehe. And all this time I kinda thought we had invented a new genre...
	I particularly enjoy the fact that the words "b-movie-obsessed" made it into the description on urbandictionary. That part doesn't fit us at all. It's not like we have a 40 minute rock opera devoted entirely to the subject of zombies or anything. (That was sarcasm in case you didn't catch it. We totally do.)