Every Evil Genius Has a Lair!

Just some quick pictures and a rare look into my creepy lab, deep beneath the Midnight Theater of Terror!

I mostly wanted to give you a look at what I'm currently working on. Unfortunately, my stock of terrified and chained up college coeds, as well as painfully inept zombie minion/lab assistants has been running a little low... so no lurid pictures.

Sorry.

So, without further ado... and as they say on MTV Cribs... this is where the magic happens!

Muwahahahaha!

We'll start with the entrance to my Lab... off the back of the kitchen, descending into creepy darkness, you have the long stairwell that, truthfully, is the last thing many of my victims will ever see!



At the bottom of the steps you have the only current holding of the Doctor Zombie Museum for the Preservation of Velvet Art. That's right... I've a velvet Clint Eastwood painting. It's at the bottom of the steps, covered in cobwebs because Mrs. Zombie flat out refuses to hang it anywhere else in the house. I have no idea why. It is a beautiful rendition of The Man With No Name and it seems such a waste where it is, viewed only by the spiders, those things with a million legs that creep me the fuck out, and me when I'm doing laundry. I should say that the painting was actually a gift from my father when I went away to college. He'd bought it at a garage sale and, oddly, my mother refused to let HIM hang it as well. Anyway, it hung proudly in every apartment and house I lived in during my singledom... but was then relegated to the Lab of Terror when I moved in with Mrs. Zombie. The woman has no appreciation for art.



No dank lair is complete without a beer fridge. Notice my hillbilly decoration -- every time I get beer wit ha cool label or beer that I really like, I tape some packaging to the side. Nice! We actually live in a century home in beautiful Downtown Willoughby and we have a huge front porch where I have the primary beer fridge. This is the backup auxilliary beer fridge because you've got to be prepared. With enough beer. In case the zombies come. I'm just saying...



Now we come to the reason for this little visit into the horrid underbelly of Doctor Zombie's evil abode. What's that in the bottle?!? It looks... erp!... like blood! Dear dark Pagan gods! What are you doing Doctor Zombie?!? What horrible, loathsome thing are you doing?? Is it some sort of mad, evil science project? Are you transferring the blood and viscera of your latest victim?!? Gasp!



Maybe we should take a closer look, because it can't be what it looks like!!!



Oh, crap! That doesn't look much better?!? What is that foul matter floating on top? And where does that length of surgical tubing go?!?!?!?



That's right! I'm racking my latest batch of mead! wOOt!

Fooled you, huh? It's actually a recipe called Bat's Wing Blood. It's a dry, sweet mead that uses two pounds of Strawberries, two pounds of blueberries, and a pound of blackberries. I'm excited about this batch because it - true to the recipe - is thicker and blood red. My onlyregret is that I didn't start it earlier so that's it's ready for Halloween. Alas, it'll have to be a Christmas or St. Patty's day bottling.

Thats all right, though. My initial taste found it to be dry, with little sweetness and very little fruit flavor. I'm hoping it'll sweeten up as it ages... fingers crossed. I do have to say that I had about a quarter of a pint glass full and it went right to my head. Alcohol content is going to be awesomely high with this batch... which is a result of using champagne yeast. Champagne yeast has a higher alcohol tolerance and will make it, seriously, rock your world.

Muwahahaha!

And... what better way to make mead in the fall then to get oneself buzzed up on fresh mead dredgings and then top it off with a New Holland Ichabod Pumpkin Ale while waiting for it to transfer between the carboys. Ahhhh..... fall.....



Hope you enjoyed the small tour of my lab, dear reader. Unpleasant dreams!

Ohhhhh! I seriously would like to expand my velvet art collection. If you have ANY old velvet art laying around in your's or a family member's place... I would love to acquire it. SERIOUSLY. I will someday open the Museum for the Preservation of Velvet Art and will totally treat it as a donation for the betterment of the arts. Also, keep an eye at garage and tag sales. Please. I really need to expand my collection!

SERIOUSLY!

Fall Shenanigans

Well, it's fall once again. It's Dr. Zombie's favorite time of year. It's apple cider, autumn leaves, pumpkins, Great Lakes Brewery Nosferatu lager, thunderstorms, and Halloween.

Ahhhh...

One of the other inevitabilities of autumn is it's the time of the year when Doctor Zombie's thoughts turn to the age old Zombie family tradition of dressing in camo and wreaking bloody havoc andvengeance upon the vast armies of raging, furry, woodland creatures.

That's right - it's hunting season.



The funny thing is that I'm actually not allowed to mention what is known in the house as the "H-word" until September 1st. Mrs Z hates the annual bow hunting trip, the annual Deer Shotgun trip, the Christmas Eve morning small game hunt, the January muzzleloading trip and the big Spring Turkey trip... with a passion. This year will be even worse because I'm doing a lot of travelling for work. I will, seriously, be in Tampa the beginning of November, go bowhunting two weeks later, come back for a week and a half, go Shotgun hunting, come home for 3 days, and then go to a conference in Chicago.

Mrs. Z. will not be happy.

Add into that the fact that ZombieBoy will start hunting this year, which means I'll need to go a few additional weekends with him to teach him what he needs to know. He won't be going to deer camp yet. I don't think he's ready for that. Besides the fact that we drink quite a bit (at night and only after all weapons have been secured - we're not idiots), we're also a pretty profane bunch.

That and we've been known to have lapses in judgement that I'm not ready to expose my son to yet. I've detailed one of those escapades earlier in my recounting of the time my father and I almost died while simultaneously sinking my Jeep in a raging river.

But there've been many other incidents. For instance... the time I almost blew my dad up.

Sit back, dear reader, and reaad about the idiocy of Doctor Z...



So, at deer camp a few years back we were sitting around the fire at dusk. We were bored and -- as usually happens, we were having a conversation about important stuff, like how to take care of the beaver dam at the bottom of the meadow on our property.

There was some talk about a backhoe, and some tow chains, but I was convinced that a flare taped to a 25 pound propane tank would do the trick. For safety, we'd of course shoot it from a distance with a rifle, but that was the only way to go. I was of course overruled, but to this day I'm convinced this was the best option. I mean who doesn't want to shoot a propane tank with a high powered rifle, watch it explode in a brilliant burst of fire and concussive waves, and then cheer as a beaver dam lets loose in spectacular disaster movie syle?!?

But I digress... any way, as this was going on, I realized that I had brought something I needed to dispose of. As my deer camp buddies discussed the logistics of unengineeering a beaver damn - that RIDICULOUSLY didn't involve the application of high explosives - I pulled out half a can of Pyrodex black powder.

You see, I'd bought a new inline muzzleloader that took the pellets, so I didn't need the loose powder anymore. I told my dad I didn't need it, showed it around, and one thing led to another... we started throwing capfuls of the blackpowder into the fire.

It would flare and flash with satisfying intensity and the lizard part of our male brains soon turned to more shenanigans. Any man who tells you he's mature and responsible is lying because -- when he gets a few belts in him, there's no woman around, and there's explosives of any kind involved -- we will ALL immediately revert to immature, dumb 10 year olds.

And that's where we found ourselves.

I should preface with the fact that we were done hunting, it was evening, and we had only one or two beers in us at the time...

Anyway, the throwing of a capful at a time soon wore off as it inevitably should, and that's when I said, "We should run a long line and light it, like in the cartoons. We'll Wile E. Coyote it!"

Famous last words...

At the time this seemed like a good idea. This is one of those 'good' ideas that is usually preceded by the statement, "Here, hold my beer. Watch this!"

And as we all know, that never ends well...

We set in motion our plans to re-enact the actions of a cartoon character who, if we'd thought about it, should have served as a dire warning. We moved away from the fire a good thirty feet as we were at least sort of thinking about safety, and my dad began pouring the line of Pyrodex. The plan was to go for a twenty or so foot line and leave the can at the end. When we lit the opposite end, we'd stand behind a tree and watch the awesomeness of the resulting combustion.

At least that was the plan.

My dad had a ten foot or so trail poured and was still holding the can when when an errant spark jumped out of the fire... and hit the end of the trail

Faster than any mere human can react - the flame raced up the line of Pyrodex, jumped up into the air, and into the can.

I was ten feet from my dad when it happened and didn't even have time to yell a warning. There was a blinding flash of fire, a billowing cloud of smoke, and an earsplitting explosion.



My first thought was, "Fuck. My dad's dead. My mom's going to kill me when I have to tell her that Dad blew up."

The smoke slowly cleared to reveal my Dad, his face and jacket black from the explosion, and his white hair sticking straight out from the sides of his head. The cartoon comment from earlier seemed oddly prophetic because he looked like Wile E. Coyote after getting snookered by that damned Road Runner. His eyes gleamed white from his gunpowder darkened face like one of those old time racist minstrels in black face.



"Wow. That was stupid." he said, in a masterpiece of understatement.

The aftermath? He split the skin on two fingers and had a bruise where the can had blown backwards into him -- less than an inch from his junk. On a cool note -- you know the shape of a Pyrodex can? Sort of like a big Spam can? Well, the explosion sucked it inside out and made it as round as a soup can.

So. Lesson learned? Will my father and I stop doing dumb stuff when we've a few belts of Irish whiskey and beer in us?

I doubt it.

Some Web-Comic Goodness

So I'm getting ready to head out of work and ride the Harley over to Valley View. I'm meeting up with some fellow Cleveland Zombie Squadders to see the lovely Milla Jovovich kick some zombie ass in glorious 3D.

But before I did that, I wanted to mention two web comics I've come across that I absolutely love!

I lament the fact that I can't draw a straight line to make a stick figure because I'd love to do something like this. In fact, I've toyed with the idea of putting together an animated web series a few times, and I know I could write something brilliant for it, I just lack the ability to handle the art end of things.

Sigh.

Anyway, check out these great comics. Way cool!


The first is Dead Winter.

It tells the story of Lizzy Cooper - a waitress who finds herself surviving the zombie apocalypse with some fellow odd characters. There's her girlbro, Alice; the hitman Blue Monday; and their plumber friend Lou.

Well written, incredibly well drawn, and absolutely engaging.

I do have to say though, if they don't resolve the issue with Mr. Cuddles the kitten and reunite him with Lizzy - I'm going to murder someone!








Next up... we have the awesomeness that is The Zombie Hunters.

Much more serious in tone and look, this series has a different take on the idea of the zombie apocalypse. In a post-apocalyptic and dystopian world, the survivors are split into those who are infected, and those who aren't. Much like Romero's Land of the Dead, the infected are second class citizens and they are sent into the wastelands to scavenge among the throngs of ravenous undead.

What's cool about this series is that the author has made her own unique world where you have several different kinds of zombies beyond the usual shamblers. You have Hunters who stalk their living prey, Spitters who share their infection with big pus-filled loogies, and Basilisks who trap their victims with a ghostly, otherworld stare. There's an entire list of zombie types that turn the genre on its ear.

Like I said, it's more serious and somber, but it is fun and funny too.







Check these out when you get a chance! I - of course - disavow any responsibility for lost time and/or productivity due to your reading these awesome comics!

Enjoy, dear reader!

Zombie Mecca

Q: "So what did YOU do on your summer vacation, Doctor Zombie?"
A: "I only went to the coolest fucking place on the planet!"

So yeah... Mrs. Zombie and I took last week off and did a little vacation before the kids went back to school. We got a hotel in Pittsburgh and spent a day at Kennywood - an amusement park just outside of Pittsburgh.

I was cool with it, and told Mrs. Zombie so. Even though I was going to have to deal with crowds and waiting in line and the unceasing brutality of August sunshine (The sun is trying to kill me. The bastard.)...

I was fine with it because, when she started planning the trip, I told her that I would swallow my hate for other people, fight my general antisocialness and gamely tolerate the unwashed masses... if we made one stop while in Pittsburgh.

She was almost sorry she said yes.

You see, no self respecting zombie film fan would DARE go to Pittsburgh without making the pilgrimage to that most holy of holy zombie-related places -- the Monroeville Mall.

That's right, dear reader... I went to the very same mall where the father of the modern day zombie movie filmed his classic 1978 Dawn of the Dead. I was in geekish heaven!

The funny thing is, I was certain she'd never go for it... but she indulged my idiocy and gave in. (I suspect when she realized that I was asking to go to a mall - in a state where there's NO sales tax - she was much more likely to acquiesce, but whatever, dude. I went to the fucking mall of malls!)

So after a short hop into suburban Monroeville PA, we rolled up on the awesomeness of Zombie Mecca. We were on a holy pilgrimage, even though we were in Pittsburgh, which is the most unholy of places to any self respecting Browns fan. As I said many times during the week, we were truly pilgrims in an unholy land! But I digress...

So, while Mrs. Zombie and WolfGirl perused the likes of such stores as Justice and Bath and Body Works.... ZombieBoy and I ran around like the total geeks we are, snapping pictures and making fools of ourselves.

We arrived 15 minutes before the mall opened and this pleased me immensely as the gates were down in all of the stores, especially at the JC Penney. I snapped a couple quick pictures of the Penney's as it appeared in Dawn of the Dead. I even took a picture of myself in front of the very side where Peter, Roger, and Flyboy went in and out.

While I was running around, waxing nerdy about the awesomeness of being in the fucking mall where Romero filmed Dawn... and before the stores opened... Mrs. Zombie and WolfGirl wandered around trying to get a wireless signal so that Mrs. Zombie could update her Facebook page to say where she was and that her husband was acting like a big, geeky child. Alas, she couldn't get a signal...

One cool point... the comic book store at the mall, Toy Galaxy, totally embraces the cinematic history of the mall. The have autographed pictures, a "maul of fame" with bloody handprints and autographs from various stars of zombiedom, t-shirts, movie posters, and even a small exhibit in the back devoted to all things zombie. They have a great staff and host various zombie themed events throughout the year. Definitely stop in if you ever make the pilgrimage, you won't regret it.

So… the tour begins!

Mall Interior

Much of the mall has been remodeled, but the original 70's style skylights remain.


Another shot of the skylights. In the movie, our intrepid heroes peer down through these when they first land on the mall of the roof...


The fish pond. The original fountain is long gone, but this pond remains with some big hornking carp in it.


Me on the bridge over the pond, imagining the awesomeness of a biker falling from the upper level into it...


A carousel now stands where the original clocktower was. Next to the carousel is Toy Galazy and (gag!) a Steelers store.

One of the escalators that the zombies rode up and down on...

Some copyright infringement in the mall! Posted mostly so I could cross post over at Zombie Squad and let them know that - even at the Monroeville Mall - their shit's being ripped off!

Ice Rink

The ice rink is long gone now and has been replaced by a food court.

JC Penneys

A shot of the Penney's store, gates down and everything. This is pointing twards the corner that Roger, Peter, and Flyboy went into... and where Flyboy lost his rifle.

A long shot of the Penney's...with ZombieBoy providing some perspective....

A picture of me in the aforementioned corner. This is right in front of the spot where Fran sat looking at the sad zombie...

The world's most famous escalator? I think maybe!

Close Up of the elevator. I guess at one point they had those antislide things in the middle to prevent people re-enacting the scene where Peter slides down... but they're no longer there.

And... on that note... me pretending to slide down the escalator! : )

Myself and ZombieBoy, sharing a father and son moment...

A shot of the escalator from the top floor!

Long shot of the Elevator where Flyboy met his gruesome demise...

The old 70's style script and electronics of the elevator.

The elevator downstairs...

Boiler Room

The hallway leading to the boiler room... there's a bathroom at the end and ZombieBoy had to go, so I snapped a shot of him making his way down the hallway. Then I realized that, in my excitement, I need to go too... good thing because, at the end of the hallway, the entrance to the boiler room was open. I stepped past the Authorized personnel Only sign and snapped the following two quick shots. I jumped back out and hit the head!

Exterior

The entrance we went into the mall at. Actually, this lead to the hallway right above the former clocktower site. I was just jazzed becasue the sign said Monroeville Mall.

The Dock. It figured prominently in the movie.

Parking lot shot. There were several shots of this in the movie, but the view has changed considerably (the strip mall with the Dick's Sporting Goods is relatively recent.)

Another shot, looking East from the dock. The road that the bikers came down is immediately to the right of this picture, but the picture I took of it - sadly - didn't come out.

Toy Galaxy and the Monroeville Zombies Exhibit

The awesome zombie themed exhibit at the back of the store. It's free, but they'll accept donations. I threw in a couple bucks and then bought a Monroeville Zombies t-shirt as well to support the store. The staff - as I said - was cool and my shirt was rung up by a cute and friendly Goth chick (I know, friendly and Goth are oxymorons... but it's true!)

The sign says it all... I do think the reflection of myself and ZombieBoy in the glass is kind of cool...

I'll admit it... I eagerly await the day I can see an actual paper with this headline!

ZombieBoy and I in front of a mannequin of Bill Hinzman's original Night of the Living Dead graveyard zombie.

Maul of Fame shot - Ken Foree's autograph.

Maul of Fame - Tom I'm-Fucking-Awesome Savini!!!


Maul of Fame - "They're coming to get you, Barabara!"

Hope you enjoyed the pictures! I have one final thought...

BEST.VACATION.EVER.