They did The Mash, They did the Monster Mash...
ohmigawd! I know, I know! You're still waiting for my New York Stories! And i'm like soooo holding out on you. I feel so guilty. Really... I do. And really... they're coming! Honestly!
It's just that those jobs I had to do as soon as I got back?! Ohmigawd! They've turned into heinous things straight out of a horror movie... enormous heinous screaming UNDEAD things that come lurching back time after time, with eyeballs and gore and allsorts hanging out and they just WON'T FREAKING DIE no matter how much I bash them with the shovel! And, believe me, I've been bashing pretty much around the clock these days! Bash, Bash, Bash!
And the Handsome Guy? He's under siege too. Except his monsters are maybe bigger and scarier and more gnashly* than mine. Or at least they are the way he tells it. I'm not entirely convinced of that myself, but trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. I'm sweet like that.
And all this shovel swinging and monster bashing? Is being done in the middle of the most awful heat wave. What up with the heat wave?!! Please, please stop with the heat already! And the humidity and the smog! It's horrific, it really is! Make it stop! I wasn't made for this kinda thing! I'm all melty inside and out and my hair... it's a fright, it's reaching crisis proportions, critical mass if you will and it is somehow lanky and frizzy at the same bloody time and it's really, really not pretty and the whole thing is just conspiring to make me really, really crabby. I need ice, and cool drinks with umbrellas in them and fruity garnishes. I need a palm frond waver and the enormous kind of wind machines they use on models to make them look all windswept and stuff. I need better hair. I NEED these things, like stat. Gimmee.
And then there's you, sweet you, waiting so patiently, hands folded in your lap, a sad, wilting corsage pinned to your shoulder, waiting, waiting, waiting... so lonesome, so forlorn. What can I do to make it worth your while? What?
I know... I'll do something unprecedented in the history of Wee Me and the Wolf. I'll post a picture of me... my whole pumpkin head. The whole thing! Not just a slice of eye or a corner of mouth. The whole thing! Are you prepared? Are you ready to see the glory that is me? Are you sure?!! Here goes... Pre-NYC, Pre-Heat Wave me, snapped about a month ago.
okay. Now, don't tell my mom I did this. 'cuz she's convinced you're all out to get me. Shhhh. Okay, back to the zombie slaying. Smooches.
** shut up. Is too a word. it's a combination of ghastly and gnash and even if it's not a real, in-the-dictionary, high falutin' word like oh... say, cornice or locomotive or something... it's still a word in my lexicon and that's all you need to know to verify its authenticity.