To those of you who scoff at my claims of an upcoming zombie apocalypse, may I turn your attention to the recent story out of Florida? Can I just say I, for one, am not surprised that Florida is ground zero for the zombie invasion? Raise your hands if you agree with me.
In case you missed this very gruesome story, it gives a new meaning to naked lunch. In fact, the story is so fantastical I fully expected it's a publicity stunt for an upcoming horror movie. Yeah, Rob Zombie, I’m looking at you.
Alas, it was real and it really does give one the whole “going to hell in hand basket” feeling. If you missed the story, don’t bother searching for it, the story will give you nightmares. Briefly, the cops confronted a naked man dining al fresco on another naked man, mostly on his face.
Totally gross and disturbing, which of course means television stations played it, repeatedly? Not to mention the tons of additional stories the stations aired in the following week about other incidences of people eating other people and you thought that was just for the Donner party and soccer teams from Uruguay.
No, it happens a lot more than you’d think. It also gives a whole other level of sinister to the fellow staring at you on the bus. Now, you have to worry that he is wondering if you’d make a wonderful steak au poivre.
Of course, that fellow, in Florida, who was munching on the other fellow, isn’t a zombie. If he was a zombie after they shot him he would’ve got back up. He didn’t, ergo he isn’t a zombie.
Now don’t go thinking you can shoot first and ask if they are a zombie later. That would be a bad idea, except here in Wisconsin. We have the Castle Doctrine, a law that allows homeowners to shoot trespassers without fear of prosecution, throw in the “I thought he was a zombie” and people will give you a medal.
Anyway, back to our dead cannibal. I am sure we can all rest easier knowing he wasn’t the undead, just a regular garden-variety nut. The speculation is that he was on some kind of drug. I know, you think I'm joshing you. I mean normal people don’t look at their friend and think lunch; well, some do, it seems.
Imagine what cannibal fellow was thinking. "Gee, I’m hungry. I bet Fred there would make excellent hors d' oeuvres. Oscar has entrée written all over him."
That right there is the best anti-drug slogan ever, “Don’t do drugs or you might eat your best friend-raw.” Did the drug makers realize it gave users a wicked case of the munchies? I know this is a street drug, not subject to the same rigorous testing as real drugs. Still, I wonder if they figured how good it made you feel outweighed the whole “eating your best friend.”
Obviously, the dealer doesn’t give you a sheet listing the side effects and even if they did, would “taste for human flesh” stop the hardcore user? I bet, not if they heard it gave them a wicked high.
Jennifer Flaten lives where the local delicacy is fried cheese, Wisconsin. She writes about family life, its amusing or not so amusing moments. "At least it's not another article on global warming," she says. Jennifer bakes a mean banana bread and admits an unusual attraction to balloon animals and cup cakes. Busy preparing for the zombie apocalypse, she stills finds time to write "As I See It," her witty, too often true column. "My urge to write," says Jennifer, "is driven by my love of cupcakes, with sprinkles on top. Who wouldn't write for cupcakes, with sprinkles," she wonders.
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