Day AFTER Easter.

The day after Easter.  All the candy is on sale, and stuff goes on as normal.  No real impact from what everyone was yelling about the day before.

Now, some people, people more religious than I, would not understand the serious repercussions of celebrating someone coming back from the dead.  Do you know what it means?

Zombies are gaining our trust.

Yes, zombies.  Shambling corpses, hungering for brains and entrails.  Half magical, half scientific creatures, the walking dead.  One of the many monsters this world knows, and they are gaining our trust!  Bad juju...very bad juju.  Zombies had always been things that were stupid, beings of muscle and numbers as opposed to brains (haha) and cleverness.  We only needed fast feet and a big gun.  Now, however, we need to keep our brains (Okay, I need to stop these brain puns now) about us, because the zombies are fooling us.  Like I said, bad juju.

Now, we must figure out a way to combat these zombies, and the best way to do that is to survive.  If you don't already have one, go and get one of these.

or any book of the same sort.  Maybe, you should write your own, after killing a few hundred zombies every Zombie Jesus Day.  Er, Easter.  Sorry, force of habit.  If you do write a survival guide of your own, give a copy to a friend.

There are a few things to do with zombie fighting that everyone should know.  First of all; run.  Seriously.  Zombies are slow, and it is more important to survive than to kill.  Second; Kill them all.

Yes, I'm aware that these two seem slightly contradictory, but trust me, they make sense...if you don't have much of a brain (Ok, I needed to put one more in there.  Last one, I swear)  Let me put it another way.  Take care of yourself, then take care of the zombies.  Does that make more sense?

Just, trust me.  I know what I'm doing.  I've had experience in this type of thing.  You want to know why?

I've got a creepy basement.

I woke up this morning, and this is what it looked like.  No, your computer isn't malfunctioning.  It's just gray.  Yesterday, it looked like this.

Not kidding.  There were birds singing, gophers walking around, deer skipping with flowers on their heads.  The garden gnomes were going chores, whistling on their merry way.  It was a scene straight from Cinderella, or Snow White.  Probably Snow White.

The weather, wherever I seem to go, is bipolar.  Or indecisive.  It'll be raining one day, and beautiful the next. It's like the weather can't make up its mind.

There was a point behind this, but I can't remember it right now.  Oh, wait, I got it.

Yesterday, because I didn't get much sleep that night, I took a nap.  But, because the day was straight from a Disney movie, there was constantly light in my face.  I cannot sleep well when there is light, so I drifted into the semi-conscious zone where I had my eyes open but I was still dreaming.  And it was in that state that I have my weirdest and most random ideas.

As I was lying there, my eyes started to get really dry, and I got incredibly aware that I was wearing my contacts.  Then, for some reason, I came to the conclusion that contacts were like underwear for your eyeballs.

Like that.  And glasses are eyeball-clothes, and sunglasses are eyeball-coats.

I tried to explain this to my mom, but she gave me this look, and nodded sympathetically, while thinking something along the lines of 'THIS is what goes on in my daughter's head?'

Of course, that thought has probably crossed through her mind many times before.  I mean, this eyeball thought isn't the first of this breed of thought to cross my mind.  Most of them happen in the middle of school, and I don't generally say anything because my mom thinks that I focus on these weird thoughts, and focusing on weird thoughts when I should be focusing on schoolwork is frowned upon by parents.  In fact, it's more like the thought drops into my head, instead of me searching for it.

It doesn't really matter how I think these thoughts though, the important thing is that I do.  and, I guess that's what makes me, well, me.  so, I think that's what I'm going to blog about.  These thoughts that pop into my head for no good reason.  Maybe I'll share stories that might help to explain why I think that eyeballs coverings need to be classified into specific types of garments.  Who knows?

first post!

Hi to all of...wait, no one's there.  Well, for anyone who is in the future who decided to look back at my posts, thanks for caring enough.  Or being bored enough to look through all the rambling that is sure to come.  Anyway, to anyone who decided to read this, I guess I should talk about myself.

Hi.  I'm Tegan.  Nice to meet you.  As you might be able to tell from the title of the blog, I'm verbally dyslexic (really hoping people get the title) which is my way of saying that I screw up what I want to say.  A lot.  I'd add an example here, but I can't think of anything in particular.  I'll let you know of something when it comes.  It'll probably come a bit later in the post while I'm talking about something completely off topic.

Hmmm...what is there to say?  I'm a teenager.  Learning how to drive.  Remind me to get my mom to take pictures of me while I freak out behind the wheel.  Naaaah.  I think I'd rather be some imaginary face and voice in your head.  Adding a face to your mental picture sort of ruins the whole "mental" part.  I'll just draw a picture of my face.  Not EXACTLY sure how that will work out, seeing as I'm a particularly good artist.

Anyway...I don't think I'm going to delete much of what I write in posts, so you get to see how my brain works!  If there's stuff you don't understand...Google it.  I'll probably be rambling on and on about the Babel Fish or something of the like, and if you're thinking "What the hell is this kid talking about?"  seriously, Google it.  Babel Fish, while uncomfortable at first, is a magnificent tool.  Waaaait, it sort of started a whole bunch of wars.  Never mind.

I have a feeling that most of my posts are going to be like this.  Possibly longer, and hopefully with a point.

OH, feel free to email me at ExplodingSammich@gmail.com.  Cuz, y'know, homeschooler.  I sit in front of my computer with nothing but schoolwork all day, and not only do I have verbal dyslexia, I also have chronic procrastinitus.  Yes, it's real.  No, not really.  It's just me wasting time.  It happens a lot.  Too often for my mother's comfort, but there you have it.

I feel like leaving a thing at the end that at first makes no sense, then it sort of makes sense, but then you realize that it's just rambling.

Don't give your money to squirrels, because they use it to get high, and high squirrels is the last thing we need.

Yea, that works.