So Ritchie has been trying to get me to watch AMC’s Walking Dead for a while. I told him I wasn’t interested in this whole zombie thing and that I don’t even understand why it’s a thing at all, culturally speaking. Then the other day my cousin Cheryl from L.A. sent me this picture using the Dead Yourself app:
I thanked her for sending the picture without recognizing us. When I finally did two days later, I was hysterical. Poor Ritchie looks like a burn victim and I look like I’ve had the mother of all relapses. I started to send Cheryl pictures to Dead—you have to admit, she has a certain flair for this sort of thing. I told her she should have been a tattoo artist or a nail tech who paint Mount Rushmore on a big toenail. I’m so proud of her! Her work reminds me of naive but promising Francis Bacon.