Zombie Night

Zombies have it rough. The flesh impaired are by and far the most intellectually ambitious demographic in our fair nation. No other group pursues brains with such passion -- such admirable dedication. Yet after late night after late night they are no better than a scarecrow beset in Oz. Although he didn't bash in Dorothy's skull directly (such temper may have caught straw to flame), I think he just didn't want it bad enough. He just hung out in a field, waiting for brains and when they came he helped murder an innocent witch to get an honorary metaphorical brain. How empty. He could have just eaten Dorothy's. Particularly once he had the axe of the heartless tinman, the unlikely pair could easily have mustered the animosity far before meeting the lion to pursue their appetites without the wizard. It's too bad there are no real wizards. Zombies must have brains by any means. Even if it means preying on the tender yet meager minds of Halloween beggars trotting house to house in costume. Zombies need brains.

Elizabeth wanted to be a zombie.

I wanted to be a zombie too.

After delicate preparation, she unveiled her "Dead Head" ensemble: the latest in zombie-wear evening attire. While beer-battered brains are a guilty pleasure for all undead, having the brains duly marinaded gives that rich flavor even past the telencephalon and cerebellum regions. Zombie Elizabeth is an amazing chef and can tell just the point when drunk brains are impaired just enough for flavor without spoiling too many of the actual brain cells. It's truly a sight to see.

Zombies cannot live off of donuts alone. Donuts have no brains.

Lying in wait, there's the smell of children in the air.

I'm a "Late Rising" zombie. Most people think that zombies just pop out of the ground and start their hunt. Again, a misnomer. Some prefer a slower approach. I like to take my time in the morning -- put on my zombie robe, read the zombie news, enjoy a good mug of blood before going out to greet the neighbors. Then I eat their brains.

I still don't understand why so many small children started to cry. We had candy. Look kids, candy!

The trick-or-treaters still hadn't shown. Zombie Elizabeth was getting hungry. Her eyes began to glow. She also gets very grumpy when she hasn't eaten. I ran inside to see if we had any snacks...

...but couldn't find much. We had some hand leftover from the girl scout fundraiser a few weeks before. Those cookie companies sure get a hefty handful of our hard-earned dollar every year sending us those girl scouts straight to our door. How can we say no? Zombie Elizabeth prefers the Thin Mints, the snappy children chewing gum. I've always had a thing for the Tagalongs -- not the one holding the cookies, but the support brains of friends and parents. Zombie Elizabeth wasted no time.

The neighbors really didn't know what to make of it.

I, Zombie.

Zombie Elizabeth.

Zombie Elizabeth is truly gifted at the piano. To hear her zombie hands on the keys... remarkable.

No zombie night would be complete without hitting the bars. We stopped to watch where all of the good brains were headed.

We had a really good time that night.

Change? Change? Cha...oh wait. Brains? Brains? Few were willing to help out a homeless zombie on the night when you're supposed to give the most. That says something about society today.

Starlight, starbright, first star my zombie eyes see tonight. Wish I may...

...wish I! Look! There's brains in there!

Zombies this attractive have to be careful being out so late. Necrophiliacs prowl the shadows preying on the likes of her. Again, a testament to the double standards betraying the undead in our fine nation, no federal law bans the sexual violation of a corpse. While many states will file felony charges, Mississippi won't even give you a ticket. Fortunately, she had a gentle escort to ensure her safety.

Loans! Loans! Zombies need bailout too!

Best Halloween ever.

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