True story:

My grandma is a woman who was raised by a farmer and who was subsequently married to a farmer. Said farmers raised chickens, pigs, beef cattle, you know, the usual. She was involved in chicken slaughters every year, being the one to behead them and feather them. She was involved in pig slaughters several times back in the day when the butcher would just drop by and you'd make a day of it. She was even involved in cow slaughters occassionally, though that was a more rare event.

So, back a million years ago during my aquarium hayday gramps and I were sitting at the table talking about my aquariums and my future plans. My plan was to have my one big one set up with good sized fish, Jack Dempseys or something, and set up one or two of my smaller ones as a sort of "guppy farm." Gramps got it right away and said that sounded like a well thought out plan. Grandma didn't get what I meant by guppy farm. So, I explained to her how I'd separate the young so they'd survive, raise 'em to a certain size, then toss them back in with the adults. Every once in a while I'd then grab out a netfull of adults and/or deformed babies and toss them in the tank of larger fish as a snack.

She cringed, and then said I was being cruel. Grandpa and I looked at each other, and laughed. She got upset.

BREAK

True story:

BB just snapped and tossed a pen at laughing-girl's head. Hard enough that when it missed it stuck solidly in a box of documents behind her.

She asked for an apology. His response was, "I'm sorry I missed your eye."

She, in her usual move, laughed hysterically.

BREAK

True story:

On the way in to work this morning I actually paid attention to my fellow commuters and noticed about 75%, possibly more, look like blank slates. There's no spark of life in their eyes, no sign that they are among the living.

You ever see someone or something die? That moment their eyes go from flashing life to darkened non-existence? It was that look I saw on most of their faces. I found it frightening.

We're all zombies already.

BREAK

True story:

My wife a few days ago says to me, "if the zombie outbreak comes, we're fucked."

I ask her why.

"You've seen that cemetery up the road. There's got to be thousands in there."

She seems to be legitimately worried about it, as she's brought it up several times since then.

No more zombie movies for Mrs. NFB.

BREAK

True story:

My step-sisters on both sides are pregnant. Mom's pretty sure her husband's daughter is having at least twins, possibly triplets based on how quickly she ballooned up. I told her to apply the Al Bundy question, "How do I know you're not hiding ten gallons of ice-cream in there?"

No one is amused that the girls are pregnant, least of all their husbands who both realize they're already below the waterline and sinking fast.

Look for shuffling and moving in with parents to commence soon. It's so amusing to be the good child. After all those years of being the only child, my parents are finally seeing what it's like to have a child that actually is a problem.

Not that I'm amused by their potential misery. OK, maybe just a little. I was raised to find amusement in the misery of others and myself. It's their own damn fault if I laugh at them.

BREAK

True story:

I'm sucking down every last drop of processor juice our 400 can muster up right now on a query that shouldn't even be possible. I do so love impossible requests.

Outz.