Not a Zombie. Maybe a Barista.

By now I'm sure every person with access to the internet has heard about the "Miami Cannibal" story. If you were living under a rock last week, click HERE to catch up.

Geeks everywhere were ecstatic.

"We were right!" they screamed."The zombie apocalypse is near and only those of us who have prepared will survive. Once we defeat the undead, we'll be forced to repopulate the planet. So long virginity!"

Unfortunately, for those counting down the days 'til zombie warfare, I've got bad news for you.

The Miami Cannibal wasn't a zombie.

I don't even think he was a real cannibal.

You know what he was, he was pissed-off customer service worker.

Now I can't say that for a fact, but personally I've thought about ripping someone's face off after a bad day at work.

Honestly, that's pretty tame. I won't write the worst thing I've thought about doing to some redneck with hairy eyelids after he asks if I'm retarded.

I don't need a paper trail in case some shit goes down one day.

So the moral of this horrifying story is be nice to your baristas, because they might eat your face off.

Oh, and don't come to Florida. It's getting pretty cray down here, y'all.