05 April 2003 - 6:30 p.m.

Man, if Night of the Living Dead isn't a gross movie. It made me wish I were about 40 years older, so I might have run into George Romero at CoMputer U. and, maybe become his pal.

Although, I'm kind of glad I wasn't in that movie. I was reading the website of that girl who played Karen Cooper, and she said when she was supposed to be eating her father's arm, she had to use somebody's left-over meatball sandwich doused in chocolate syrup for her prop.

That's almost more gross than human flesh. I can't imagine what somebody's torn-off arm might taste like, which leaves the possibility that it might actually be kind of savory. Old, cold subs and chocolate syrup, on the other hand, are two things I don't particularly relish separately, so the thought of tasting them together makes me want to hurl.

Which reminds me of a quote from my most accomplished movie buddy, and the person who told me if I hadn't seen NOTLD yet, I'd better get the fuck on it: "The one time I hurled, it was AWESOME!"

Proof that even the upper levels of academic glory are a place for the glories of Wayne's Worldesque jargon.

Last night I dreamed I got mad at Hatbox and threw her down a stairwell, breaking her back. I felt terrible. But I think she got even with me by promising to lay on my butt and compose acrostics about me, and then getting up to eat some cat food instead.

I guess that last part would have been a dream too, huh?

What I'm wearing: Pink skirt, white tank top

What I'm reading: water running somewhere

What I'm doing after this: Partying down with the assholes