All I need is a machine gun for a leg

I bumped into a coworker on the T this morning. He asked me, as people do when they make small talk, if I had any big weekend plans. “I’m going to watch zombies,” I said. I’m not sure whether it was the enthusiasm in my voice or the fact that I was enthusiastic about zombies that caused the look of fear on the guy’s face, but it was definitely not the answer he was expecting.

I was reading a review of 28 Weeks Later in the NYT this morning. The movie stars two people named Mackintosh Muggleton and Imogen Poots. Can you get more British than that? Can they get eaten by zombies just for having names like those?

28 Days Later terrified me for a good two months, not just because it’s an excellent suspense thriller, but because it was on TV almost every night and it was one of those movies that I couldn’t not watch if it was on. This caused some problems, given the fact that it kept me from doing laundry for a little while, but that was three years ago. I am psyched to see the sequel and yes, I’ve already let Lunchboy know that he’ll be keeping me company on all trips to the basement for the next X number of months.