I’ll bake it. I’ll broil it in broth.
Maybe I’ll mash it up with cream.
I’ll Posh Nosh it thoroughly.
Never again will I fry polenta.
There are tiny burns on my arms.
I slid around the floor, lubed up,
As our smoke alarm went insane.
I’ll bake it. I’ll broil it in broth.
Maybe I’ll mash it up with cream.
I’ll Posh Nosh it thoroughly.
Never again will I fry polenta.
There are tiny burns on my arms.
I slid around the floor, lubed up,
As our smoke alarm went insane.

My friend, Heidi, the woman who edited the second edition of Blood-Soaked and Contagious, tweeted me yesterday. Her 13 year-old niece is reading it, and apparently loves it.
I never intended it to be a YA novel… but it seems as though my writing entertains young people, too. I do wonder what will happen when she gets to the sexually-charged material in the last quarter of the novel. Wait, there’s sex-related stuff all over in that book. Shit.
Please, God, I don’t want to be a form of sex education for America’s Troubled Youth!
My friend, Eric, just sent me an email asking me why I think Zombies are frightening. I can’t help but put on my Philosophy Beanie and take on the question. So, here is why I feel Zombies are scary.
So, there we go. My theory about why Zombies are scary.