Archive for the ‘Zombies’ Category

“I’ll take care of the squealing, wretched, pinhead puppets of Gotham!”

I was followed from the gym all the way through the parking garage and up to my car last Friday.  It was raining, so I had my hood up, and my umbrella in a grip so tight I lost feeling in my pinky. 

(Here’s a shocker:  I can be a bit too big for my britches at times.  I tend to believe I’m a lot tougher than I am because I spent many years of my childhood faking my older sister out so she would stop giving me dutch ovens in our Alvin & the Chipmunks tent.  And Erika, if you’re out there, I sincerely hope you’re not doing this to your children as an alternative to a time out.)

I was in complete denial until I approached my car door and he stopped, stood there, and watched me.  He had his hood up and I’m crazy enough to say he was the Grim Reaper.  I carry a stun gun in my purse, but my idiot instinct was to hit him with my umbrella.  I’ve seen Batman Returns too many times.  

He said, “Hi!”  then pretended to look around and up toward the ceiling.  I barked “HI!” back, but in a most threatening, gatekeeper-y voice similar to that of demigod, Zuul

It was that, the “I Love Brains” sticker on my car, or the person who just happened to stroll past the two of us in a Greeting/Staring Match at the perfect moment that sent him walking lickety-split on out of the parking garage.

Knock it off, universe.


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Knight terror.

On this here Valentine’s Eve I’d like to publicly express my gratitude toward the gentleman I share my bed, couch, flatus, toenail clippings, and brand spanking new neurosis, ill-tempered sleep talking (?), with on a nightly basis. 

I would also enjoy allowing myself to believe that this is just a hush-hush slice of the of the aging pie and not that I am actually becoming (more) unhinged. 

It happened again last night shortly after I fell asleep beside him watching Millionaire MatchmakerListen closely and you’ll hear the sound of a slimy finger wiping away my dwindling points on the almighty chalkboard of coolness.

I had a dream that Ben and I were making plans to go to bed and that I’d turn the light off on my way there.  Then I awoke (halfway) groping a tiny, artificial Christmas tree.  I know that sounds like a tripped out part of a dream (it turned out not to be a Christmas tree at all, but Abraham Lincoln’s BEARD instead!), but that part was real.  We’re just a little behind is all.

“What are you doing?” 

“Aren’t we going to bed!?!” 


The half asleep me can’t handle the embarrassment or laugh it off like the awake me would.  Instead it barks (like a dog – true story), or grumbles a bunch of nonsense and smothers herself to sleep with a pillow.   

I don’t know who I am in this state, but I can tell you that it feels a little like Scorpion from the video game, Mortal Kombat.

“Scorpion is now a hell spawned revenant, inexorably seeking vengeance against those responsible for the destruction of his clan and the death of his family.”


A dry winter and recently remedied case of bad fleas ate away at my skin.  I haven’t shaved my legs in months, either, so when naked I might actually appear to be a sunburned centaur. 

Good god, I’ll shave tomorrow.  That poor guy. 

Next week I’ll be a zombie greeting guests at the door to George Romero’s VIP cocktail party.  I hope I’m allowed to bite people. 

I also need to ask him a thing or two about Knightriders.  Ex:  “Wtf?”


“I’m not trying to be a hero!  I’M FIGHTING THE DRAGON!”

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We can be heroes.

Today I’ll proudly laminate my Advanced First Aid, Infant, Adult, and Child CPR certification cards.  I should’ve started this off with a joke about how I spent all day yesterday making out with a dummy. 

The class was held at the American Red Cross and I read a book about vampires right next to the blood bank, no one even noticed. 

At one point in our role play learning game my dummy baby was conscious and choking.  I was instructed to flip it upside down over one leg and proceed with 5 back blows to dislodge the imaginary kibble.  I must not know my own strength because when I got to 2 the baby’s face fell off and flew across the room. 

Training lasted all day, so we broke for lunch and took a field trip next door to Jack in the Box.  I was first in line and felt pretty ridiculous ordering something light called a “pita snack” so I wouldn’t grease up my dummy too hard.  And something about the way my teeth are shifting is giving me a mostly noticeable lisp nowadays. 

Pita Thnack.  

Just as I was taking my retheipt a woman from class right behind me in line slapped me on the back, I’d say it was medium-hard.  I spun around so fast that I nearly took a couple innocent bystanders out with a Sarah Jessica Parker brand scarf.

“There was a roach on your back!” 

In my head I’m thinking, of course I’m the girl with the lisp and the roaches crawling up her back at Jack in the Box, what the hell did you expect?  And then I realized while thinking this I was just standing there staring into space like I sometimes do. 

“OH!  AHH!”  The worst display of a normal human reaction to roaches crawling up your back at Jack in the Box took place right then and there.  I jumped around a little because I felt like that’s what I was supposed to be doing? 

I heard a disembodied voice in the back of the place say, “Is she dancing” so I just stopped and toned it down a little to a shake of the head followed by loose lipped b-b-b-b-blubber. 

It’s birthday eve and I’m celebrating tomorrow night with a few ladies, a few cookies, lots of ice cream, and video games.  

Over the weekend at the Zombie Service Announcement shoot I played Assistant Director.  The cast and crew surprised me with a vodka spiked Jello brain with 3 candles wobbling in the top. 

I almost cried because I’m so far away from 3 yet sometimes I still have the urge to cram pennies up my nose and I don’t think that will ever change.

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We’re still in the process of finding a good host for the full movie, but I wanted to show off our gag reel in the meantime.

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“That’s a wrap!”

On July 3rd, the day before our zombie shoot, I took off work early to tie up some loose ends.  We were still in desperate need of a good brain for the break room scene, so I called the costume shop I’ve been in and out of since we began this madness.  It was second on the list of the greatest phone calls I’ve ever made. 

(First is the prank call I made to an unknown older male back in early 90’s.  During a momentary lapse of reason I answered “Sandra Bullock, with Spiegel Magazine…” when our victim dared to ask who was on the other end of the line.  He then proceeded to yell at me and threatened to call the police, so I cried into the phone because I was and still am a total panty waste.)

Anyway, back to the present.

*ring ring*


“Hi, I’m looking for brains.  Do you have any available?”

“Hm, I think we have a variety of them, can you hold and I’ll take a look?” 

“No problem!” 

*someone else picks up the line*

“Who are you holding for?”

“Oh, I’m not sure… but she’s looking for brains.”

“Okay, that’s Jennifer, hold please!”

*Jennifer picks back up*

“Thank you for holding.  I have two brains for you, would you like me to hold them?”

“Yes, that would be awesome.  I’ll be by soon to scope them out!”

“Great, they’ll be at the back counter.” 

Upon arriving I made my way to the back of the shop where another customer was purchasing other assorted severed limbs on the Cannibal Meat Market line. 

I recognized the much older woman behind the counter as the same lady who offered us an armful of… well, arms a couple weeks prior. 

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, I have brains on hold.”

“Oh yes, of course, here they are!”

The other customer and I exchanged glances and nodded silently as if to say, “Ah, another member of Fright Club.”   Then he did a double take and shouted, “Wait, you have brains here?!”

It was at this very moment that I fought the urge to hold both treasured organs of my conquest high in the air and scream, “I HAVE THE POWER!”

Instead I quickly decided that an impression of He-Man in heels and corporate office attire wouldn’t go over very well and chose to do the right thing by offering him one of the two.  I was serious and polite.

“I’m not going to use this one if you’d like it.”

It was obviously the least convincing of the two, but we both knew that sharing is caring.  However, he declined. 

That entire evening was spent mixing up a flawless recipe for fake blood given to us by Tony Elwood.  Peanut butter is the secret (and tasty) ingredient.  (Note:  This also prevents clothing stains!)  Ben also devised a “blood cannon” using aquarium tubing and a bike pump.  Photos of all the debauchery can be seen on Flickr

I also overcame my fear of being in front of the camera and quickly became the token drooler of blood.  It all went down my shirt and by the end of the day it had filled my belly button and glued it shut like Barbie’s. 

I can’t thank our undead friends, family, and volunteers enough for making this happen.  Our giant, gooey melting pot of ideas came together better than I could have ever imagined. 

We’re digitizing the footage this week, so stay tuned in about a month for our final product.

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Our team, Green Pax, gave birth to a 48 Hour Film two weeks ago and ever since I left Greensboro I’ve felt like I’m suffering from postpartum depression.  I’ve got a fever.  And the only prescription is more Blue Bell. 

Genre pulled:  Historical Fiction

Elements Required:

Line of Dialogue:  “I’m fixing to get started.”

Character:  Luke or Laura Brown, President of a Non-Profit Organization.

Prop:  Family heirloom.

At midnight our screenwriter delivered a wonderfully written, haunting 1930’s love story into our anxious paws.  The time spent in between is a blur because I only stay up that late on Wednesday evenings when the Sci-Fi Channel does Ghost Hunters marathons.  And I’m pretty sure I sleepily admitted that fact aloud while also (not) regaling new pals with other confessions like how badly I miss VHS tapes.  I need to work on new, more gripping conversation material. 

We tied up loose ends until 4:00 a.m. the next morning and I passed out cold on the bottom bunk in my host, Jennie’s, thirteen year old daughter’s room.  I awoke two hours later in a purple Jonas Brothers palace and Frankenstein’d my way across the hall to the shower.

I can also say now that I promptly chugged 4-5 cups of coffee after that shower to get my good eye open, gave myself the runs, then began my duty as clapboard (clapperboard, slate, marker, etc) operator.  I’m sure I’ve grossed someone out by mentioning “the runs” and “duty” in the same sentence, but in all honesty that was an accident.

The slate was brand new and the hinges were stiff, so the first couple times I clapped it made a noise that only a dolphin could hear.  I know, next time I’ll hire a fluffer. 

Ex:  “Take two!” *silence*

Luckily, the director was a really nice guy and did me a solid by saying “Action!” anyway.  It reminded me of how my older sister would take forever to find me during a game of hide and seek even when I had clearly removed every toy from the chest and stacked them up just outside so I’d have enough room to close the lid. 

I was also able to put very little gore effects experience to the test by fashioning what was to be a human heart out of cow livers.  It looked (and smelled, ew) frighteningly real wrapped in a flour sack and did a good job of oozing out in a pivotal close up. 

This won’t be streaming online anywhere for quite some time, but I do have a copy at home for those of you nearby. 

I traveled back to Greensboro last weekend for the screening where our team won the award for Best Costumes and made the Producer’s Pick which was 10 out of 35.

I wanted to take everyone home in my pocket, but instead I drove back with the second best thing I could think of, a cheeseburger. 

I won’t be able to spell my full name until August 11th when we hand over our submission for the Romero Contest.  We shoot this Friday, July 4th, and I can’t think of a better way to celebrate our independence. 

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Right over here.

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