I'm not sure what it says about me that in my 30 years on this planet I've gone to bed at 5am waaaay more often then I've woken up at 5am.

I went to the mayoral debate last night at the main library. Chicken John promised us that there would be refreshments for anyone who raised their hand and proclaimed "I have a head injury." I was wearing a bandage on my forehead soaked in fake blood, and had some of the best hot chocolate I've ever tasted. Chicken muttered "head injury, heh heh" when passing by me on his way to the stage.

The "debate" was pretty ridiculous. It started 10 minutes late because I guess Gavin Newsom couldn't be bothered to show up on time. He sat through the entire event with a contemptuous smirk on his face, for which I don't blame him - 12 candidates with responses limited to 30 seconds each didn't leave much room for serious discussion. One of the highlights was when Grasshopper Kaplan suggested we legalize marijuana in order to curb violence ("so we can all just chill out") and prostitution. "Paint the basement of city hall pink," he said, I believe in response to a question about what his first acts as mayor would be.

I actually thought Josh Wolf came off as one of the more articulate and well-reasoned candidates, without spewing any of the impenetrable bullshit we heard from the professional politicians present. From the Chronicle's coverage of the event, you wouldn't have even known he was there.

Lyndley and my presence at the debate was just a prelude to a zombie mob, which Chicken John hinted at in his closing remarks. "We're not just a city full of zombies," he said before reinforcing the point that he's running for SECOND place and doesn't actually want to be mayor, God forbid he's elected.

After a quick stop in the restroom to mark myself with duct tape and store my glasses safely away from any zombie fracas (they got broken anyways), I emerged from the library to find 5-10 fake-blood-spattered folks milling around. Unclear about any sort of plan, we all just kinda looked at each other. Someone finally decided that it was brain-eatin' time, and so I was soon tackled, my clothes torn, and fake blood sprayed on me. My screams of "AHHH! ZOMBIES!" attracted the other zombies and we soon had a full contingent of folks, screaming and clawing at the metal gate that the library security guard quickly shut. Library security must have been drilled ahead of time on what to do in case of attack by undead hordes.

"What is the mayor going to do about the BRAINNSSS situation?!?"
"Equal rights for zombies!"
"What do we want? BRAINS! When do we want them? BRAINS!"

George Davis, the nudist activist mayoral candidate, emerged from the forum and decided that zombies just needed a little love. He was giving hugs, which hopefully didn't get too much fake blood on his apron showing a lifesize reproduction of Michaelangelo's David. (He had respectfully chosen to honor the library's "no nudity" policy.)

After the zombies took a few minutes to form a congo line and dance in the street, we headed onto BART to 12 Galaxies. Frank Chu met us at the BART station with his trademark sign. "Zegatronic BRAINSS!" I shouted. There's a lot of moaning and shouting involved in being a zombie; my throat is sore this morning.

We arrived in the Mission to learn that there was a $12 cover charge which they were unwilling to waive. By this time our numbers had dwindled somewhat, so Zombie Chicken John ran off to get his 70's-era transit bus. The destination placard reads "APPLAUSE."

Everyone packed into the bus, towards parts unknown. We sang along with the oldies playing over the stereo, replacing key words with "brains." Love Shack, for instance, became Brain Shack. As the evening progressed (and more of Jack Daniel's finest embalming fluid was imbibed), we'd come to dance along in the aisles as well as sing.

The bus made its way down by the ballpark onto the Embarcadero. Whenever it would pull alongside another vehicle, bloody limbs would pound against closed windows or hang out open ones, and "BRAINNSSS" would be shou

This person is attempting to illustrate the complete IRS Schedule C Business or Professional Activity Codes table:

http://www.verysmallarray.com/?cat=17

I have no idea why I find this so awesome, but I do.