I know that I promised to write up a review of Stephen Blackmoore’s new book Dead Things, but I still need a little more time to think and edit the post so it looks all profound and stuff.
Instead, I’ll tell you what I made last night. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. This is something I enabled my friends to create last night. I’m the host of a show called Freddy’s Fan Fiction that goes on the air every other week. We recorded last night, and it was so hilarious that I actually cried laughing at one point. You can watch the video of it here on YouTube, or you can listen to the audio-only version of the show here. I very very highly recommend you subscribe to either the video or audio versions of the show. (Every episode is quite NSFW, by the way) There’s fresh, exclusive entertainment written just for our show every episode, and it’s always been amazing stuff.
The show that was recorded last night started right after I got done with work. You might be able to tell that it was somewhat of a release for me after my day at work. Apparently the decision makers at work have still decided that the ice maker doesn’t need to be fixed. The horrific squeal continues constantly. If you’re curious, or even just a masochist, check out my link on Vine. For the full effect, max the volume and loop it for ten hours. It’s been like that constantly for a week.
But the most awkward moment of the night at work was a conversation I had with a Serbian man. He came to the counter and made small talk, and eventually he started joking about murdering a whole ethnic group. I can’t decide what’s more terrifying; his unrestrained enthusiasm in miming the execution-style murder, his thick slavic accent while he did it, or his surprise when I wasn’t laughing along with him. He said, “Just Kidding,” picked up his scratch-off tickets and beer, and left.
I guess the joke got lost in translation.