Holidays, Shuttle Busses and Zombie Fiction aka Deadbus Celebration (my new indie metal band)

What do you think it would be like if we still lived in a society hell bent on eating Geese for Christmas?

No ham, no turkey, no fully roasted duck in the Chinese restaurant, just a bunch of amateur hunters, who hate the letter V, with shotguns going to the field next to their houses with a prayer and a dream of taking that lead goose down so he never see's the south again.

The holidays are funny when you're older. I have twin ten year old brothers-in-law and a small niece and nephew who are so much fun to watch on the holidays, but in a lot of ways, it's just so much F'ing stress.

Pictured: The proudest moment of
my  young life.

Finding the good with the not-so is sort of what this whole blog thing is all about, so I don't want anyone to think I'm being a dickscrooge, because I'm not. The holidays are amazing and everyone, myself included, always loves them... once they're over. They lead to extremely high points, some awesome food, some spectacular arguments, and most of all an excuse to live in excess for a couple weeks at a time.

"Yes, I know I smell like gravy and have a new chin, but Christ was born you ungrateful douche nugget!"

And that brings me to the second part of this holiday related feast of frivolity...

What do you get when you cross 20 young men and women, a shuttle bus, a parking lot, two wretched sports teams, a two hour ride, six thirty packs, a grill, a guy named Sean, and a reasonable distaste for protecting ones liver and/or moral compass?

You get our trip to the Bills/Dolphins game on Sunday!

5:15am - Three consecutive beeps awaken our young hero from his short slumber.

"The shuttle broke down, I wanted to tell you as early as possible, I'm searching for a replacement."

Anger, panic and the intense need to urinate simultaneously hit our scholarly superman. The third having nothing to do with the former. No shuttle, 19 people anxiously awaiting a funfilled day of excess. Hours before we're scheduled to convene.

Our victor sets into action. He walks groggily directly into the bathroom to relieve himself. It did nothing to help the shuttle bus situation, but it was quite the weight off his bladder. He proceeded to do nothing but be awake for the next hour and a half. Seriously, what was he supposed to do it was 5:30am at this point.

7:00am - Still nothing
7:15am - Brian texts and asks if he's allowed to be bottomly naked for most of the trip. I tell him the situation and call sitting next to him on the bus.
7:30am - Option 1: 34 passenger limosine: $1400... I laugh.
7:35am - Option 2: Sean and a new shuttle... I'll take it.

Pictured: A perfect description of the day.

20 young men and women. Coming together despite overwhelming differences and hatred/loathing I feel for each of them that I never tell them about because I'd be bored all the time.
Just kidding... or am I.
(I am)
Big jump

9:30am - We've been on the shuttle for fifteen minutes and one of the 30 packs is already gone. We need to stop.

11:00am - Everyone almost pisses themselves, but only two or three of them actually do. The tables are being set up. The grill is being assembled. The frisbee was too cold, which is why I'm so bad at Kan Jam. It has nothing to do with my lack of talent.

Food, lasers, dancing, beer, beer, porta johns, beer, food, friends, fun, snow.

1:20pm - Our seats are pretty sweet. We proceed to watch 10% of the game. We drink 11% of the beer sold that day at the stadium. The blurriness starts. More people urinate on themselves.

4:00pm - Silliness. Who won the game? It doesn't matter? You guys want to wrestle on the concrete like it doesn't hurt really badly even though it does? Yup, me too.

Pictured: What happens
when we decide the bar is
reasonable.

Later - I lost track of time. You guys want to play music really loudly, but not finish any of the songs we start? Yup, me too.

Even Later - That was so much fun, we should definitely go to the bar.
A little later - Why the balls are we at the bar, this is ridiculous, I'm going home.

6:00am (The following day) - FUUUUUUUCK! Worth it.

Aaaaand now:

ZOMBIES! I just got and read the newest Walking Dead Trade. I realize that many of you read that sentence and decided never to talk to me again based on not knowing what the hell any of it meant. Allow me to explain, as briefly as I can.

At some point in the history of comic books, a dork decided he wanted to get laid so he renamed them graphic novels. They're basically the same idea, but the stories are often much more adult, intense, and sometimes bloody or sexy, sometimes at the same time (at least I hear that's how they do it in Eastern Europe).

Pictured: A poorly taken picture of one
of the greatest gifts ever given.

The Walking Dead is an ongoing graphic novel revolving around a group of survivors coping with life after a zombie apocolypse. Zombies are always on their mind and always a threat, but the story is really about the people and how messed up their lives are because of the whole apocolypse thing and because of how we, as people, really don't handle adversity very well. Especially when that adversity is either trying to eat you or was once married to you, but is now trying to eat you.

It's phenomenal and everyone should read it. The new trade (a group of issues put together so people don't need to read one comic at a time) came out yesterday and was one of the best yet. I read it in record time and it made me think of a lot. When all is lost and everything you've been trying doesn't seem to be working, what do you do? You rely on the people around you. Whether they are your best friend or a stranger, when six dead people are trying to eat you, it's much easier to take them on with someone next to you.

Thus, Deadbus Celebration was born! Happy Buffalo Zombie Shuttle Merriment everyone!