I caught Buhdda Jazzercising

Herr Ludwig,

I'm moving apartments. Why it seems like just yesterday since I first broke ground on this roach-laden haven for 1st generation immigrants and unambitious drunks. I'll miss it. The awkward rendezvous with the ancient and spindly alcoholic woman down the hall. The loud and whooping men stomping "oh shit! oooooh shit!" at the video game being played somewhere above my ceiling. The children screeching in foreign tongues as they play and attack each other outside my bedroom window. But don't get me wrong, it hasn't been all sugarplums and icing on this street. I've had to face the burden of frozen winters through 1-ply windows. Feel the baleful presence of a thousand corpses lying enearthed in the adjacent Union Cemetery. And let us not forget my arduous struggle with Xbox addiction. Oh my. Just typing the word makes my A-button finger twitch. Se la vie, off to greener pastures.

The improv group that I've been working with now has a name: Johnny Longform. I'm do a showzen with them anoche. Go see't if you're within the tri-state area.

Zombies are a wealth of metaphor and I'll prove it Goddamnit!

King Kong ain't got shit on bee.

Bee.