Since I have been handing every other penny over to make sure the remainder of my surgery is paid for - and eating out requires access to grown-up money or mooching - I spend a lot of time at home watching shitty horror movies with my mother.
Tonight we watched a British horror comedy which started with a bunch of divorced blokes and then quickly progressed into familiar territory: violent, bloody mayhem. This time? In a little village inhabited solely by zombie women.
|(Blimey roger! This slapper is mental! Let's scarper!)|
Even though I get the dry, sardonic wit thing, British humor escapes me for the most part. For example, what is rumpy pumpy? I just, don't get it. Still, gore + mom + staying in ='s great saving ^ strategy.
So close, peeps. So close.