I didn't want to leave my last angry, whiney, and worst of all generic post up at the top of the blog for this long, so I'll just write a quick explanation as to why I've been so MIA lately.
Hutch is now...a zombie. You may send flowers and donations in her name to the charity of your choice. She died of complications following a brutal month-long battle with what seemed like the common cold, only with super-duper powers of resistance, soul-sucking, voice-stealing, and mind-numbing. As far as doctor's can tell, she choked on a globule of mucous and never recovered. This unfortunate incident was made even more tragic as, despite her death, Hutch lives on. Slowly dragging, making strange gargling throat sounds, waving her arms spastically (a trait that carried over from her short but profound life).
Hutch as portrayed by an Asian lesbian
in the upcoming bio-pic "Zombie Hutch:
If she were an Asian lesbian"
It's a reimagining. Like the Wiz.
The most devastating thing about her passing and yet not passing, is that she no longer has the energy or brain power to create words, much less the motor function to sit down at a laptop and type out witty platitudes like "Beware of exposed vajayjay." Her massive and merry band of followers have scarcely had the strength to go on without their daily (sometimes weekly) dose of Sporadic Sporkitudes.
While Zombie Hutch has shown no interest in consuming the brains in others, she has had the pleasure of passing on this super-strain of cold to others, including family, friends, and co-workers (who may or may not have started it first). So beware if you hear shuffling, Queen Latifah in Last Holiday pre-makeover heels, the nose-blowing that strongly resembles a classic mustang engine firing up, or the asthmatic donkey-like voice as she attempts to go about her human job as a customer service associate. In this position she is able to infect a vast sum of unsuspecting customers who are clearly unaware that they are being serviced by a slowly decomposing corpse. One such client was even gracious enough to provide grapefruits to Zombie Hutch's office, in an effort to cure her and her fellow undead co-workers. They were delicious, but the violent strain lives on in the former blogger and couch potato-enthusiast.
Here she comes in her spiffy but ill-fitting suit and working-mom heels! For the love of god, save yourselves!!!!!!!!! (Might I recommend bathing in Purell and Airborne?)
But seriously you guys. So much mucous. But hopefully I'll fall into a routine at some point with this job and being undead, and I'll resume my regularly scheduled BS-ing.