And spell zombified anyway you'd like but it describes the last few days of my life, zombified, dead meat. May I ask as to your condition...
Our weather has turned. Its cool and breezy. High forties this morning, and yes the repairman fixed our a/c unit. Took him four hours and cost us one nice pretty penny. I flipped it in the dirt.
Business is very slow...I mean snake belly dust swallowing dead butt slow. Blame it on Uncle's tax grab.
Old man in here yesterday, "I swear, Stephen, if I'm given a terminal prognoses I'll pack my bags and drive to the District and find the headquarters of the Infernal Revenue and blow those sonsabitches to hell."
Me, "God bless you."