Thursarrgh

The Tom Cat is after my coffee and oatmeal -- cat, did your Mom not tell you you're a carnivore? -- I have like five minutes to get in the shower and there is much to do.

I probably don't have time to tell you about the co-worker, half-listening to a news segment about Mexico (or was it Easter?), thinking he heard the phrase "armed resurrection." At first I was thinkin', "Kewl!" but then I realized this means the zombies have guns. That's so not kewl.
There's only one defense: lock them in a newsroom, where they'll starve to death for lack of braaaaiiinnns.
Why do zombies never try to eat each other's brains? Don't tell me it's implausible -- I've seen what cockroaches do in a Roach Motel! I can picture the scene now: after a week, they unlock the door of the tile-glue warehouse and one really fat, bloated zombie slowly looks up from the sprawled, brain-et remains of his ex-peers and mutters querulously, "b-b-braiiiins?"

...No time, either, to mention the commercial for some health-insurance policy, in which the voice-over sincerely tells us, "It pays out from Day One!" Or it gets the hose again? Ew.

I have gotta stop watchin' the late-late horror movies.