Test Warning...

WARNING: This is a test. This is only a test. Had this been a REAL emergency, you would have been directed to go to the nearest sound proofed room for your own safety (and possibly sanity)...

***REBEL, past caring who's eardrums are ruptured, YELL***

I guess this wasn't a test after all... oops, my bad.  My only advice now would be to get to a sound proofed room as quickly as possible or go get really exceptional earplugs.  These precautions may save you from rebel yells, profanities and possibly my colorful use of verbiage in the days to follow.

I'd like to be able to apologize for this interruption of (truly, I would) your work Face Book, work Twitter, work Tumbler, work Pinterest, work blogging, work gaming work internet surfing, work texting  and work sleeping (except if you truly DID need that 'Beauty Rest' or possibly a 'Pretty Nap' to function keep others from wanting to kill you), but I cannot lie.  I simply can't be sorry for that Rebel Yell...  in fact... it felt so good, I might even try it again (after my own ears stop ringing, that is) and again and again and a lather, rinse, repeat.

Thank you. I know 'I' feel so much better now. 

Lemon Stand 

PS: Unanswered questions that keep me from being able to sleep at night:

I wonder if OSHA will soon be knocking at our door... for noise pollution... along with the police for possibly disturbing the peace?

What's the punishment is for exceeding OSHA's standards for safe decibel levels for any humans, pets, plants and zombies that might be within hearing distance? 

I wonder if zombies have to pay taxes... because they are not quite dead, nor are they quite alive? 

I wonder if I could patent the sound as a vociferous form of torture?

Is there really only three things you can never avoid in a lifetime... death, taxes and zombies?

I will be sure to let you know when you may return to your regularly scheduled activities... until then, my recommendation would be to hide.  :)

QOTD:  "There are three times in a man's life when he has the right to yell at the moon—when he marries; when his children come; and when he finishes a job he had to be crazy to start."  ~ Borden Chase [Frank Fowler] (1900–1971), U.S. screenwriter