And here’s a clue.
I’m sitting here at 2.24am on a Saturday night listening to the Pillows and trying to write something about zombies while peering through an alcoholic haze induced by drinking something over a litre of 8.5% beer somewhat quicker than may have been advisable.
Basically, I gave up living like a human being something like sixteen years ago.
Fucking zombies, I ask you. I’m never accepting a bet from a publisher again, I can tell you that much.