So, as you know, zombies took over my blog last week.
It was a horrific experience, initially.
I cowered in a corner of my office, trembling. I didn’t move to eat or sleep, and I dared not think because I was terrified they’d sense my brain pulsating and rip into it.
But then something strange happened.
As I watched their black blood stain my blog, I began to like them.
Now, I know liking zombies may be outside the realm of understanding for even the most tolerant of us. But honestly, they’re not so bad.
Yeah, okay, they eat people and all. But they only do that to survive. They don’t enjoy it.
Okay, maybe they do.
But if there was something else on the menu that would keep them undead, I’m sure they’d eat that instead. Eating our brains isn’t a personal attack on us.
Well, maybe it is.
But they don’t mean for it to be.
Perhaps we can look at it as a sort of flattery instead. I mean, of all the brains on the planet that zombies could dig into, they choose ours. Tell me that doesn’t make you feel special. Of course it does.
We are the chosen ones.
So really, zombies love us. Sort of.
Anyway, they can’t be all bad because they gave me back my blog. Would evil beings do that?
Chew on this: the next time you run screaming from zombies, stop for a moment and think.
About how special your brains are to them. About how helpless they are to stop themselves from ripping them out of your head and devouring them. About how maybe you could try to show some appreciation for their discerning palette.
That’s not too much to ask, is it?
Tolerance goes a lot further than a bullet to the head.