MMMMMMmmmmmmmngggggrrrrr....!
I really love couscous. We just had it for dinner and it was GruUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUBbbbbbbb!
(apply appropriate, hard-rock wolfmother falsetto to that last line, please)
Hello everyone. What did you eat today? Yeah? Awesome! What do you think I ate today? Give up? I just told you, dummy! COUSCOUSMoFo'ah!
I bet when I asked you what I ate today, you paused and thought that maybe I ate people.
It's alright. You can admit it.
That's something that people often ask me: "Hello Scott," they say. "What do you like to eat?"
And I'm, like, "Food. You?"
Yeah. I know. Reeeeeeally witty, huh? But these are other 15 year old virgins that usually ask me so they laugh at my shitty jokes.
"Hahahahahahah! No really. What do you, you know, eat for food? Is it like brains and shit?"
So, yeah...if you haven't noticed yet: I'm a zombie. All too true. As you probably already know, attached to zombies is the stigma that we just eat people. Well that's just silly. I need you to listen to me, and listen to me now. Zombies don't eat people only. I know that we've all seen the movies where zombies are all eating people and shit. But that's the movies! Do you believe everything you've seen in the movies? Do you? You all saw "Schindler's List", right? Do you believe that actually happened?
Now, I can't really blame you. You're ignorant. All you know about my kind is what you see in the movies. So, it's understandable that you think that we eat people only. This isn't true. We eat lots of things. But we do not eat just people.
Yesterday I sat down to lunch in the caf' with J, Jenny and my brown bag full of lunchety lunch goodness that my "latina" maid, Khieu (she told me she prefers to be called "latina" over "mexican"...actually, she told me she prefers to be called "cambodian", but i'm not going to humor her delusions...so she's "latina"), packed for me. I was shooting the shit with my peeps and about to bite into my sammich when Jordan, the guy who tripped Jeff last month, if you'll remember, plops down next to me and yells, "Hey losers! What's up!"
I don't really like Jordan. He's popular and good at sports and everything (he's on the swim team with J), but he's kind of a dick. I looked at Jenny and rolled my eyes. She rolled them back. I looked at J, expecting to share the same response, but he was just smiling at Jordan.
"Hey, Jor-dawg. How's your penis?"
Jordan turned a little red and just looked away. I don't know. It must be a swim team thing.
Unfortunately, he turned his gaze directly at me and my sandwich. "What you got there, Lan-FEAR? A people pasty? A man-on-rye? Who's in there? Monty and Carlo?"
"Uhhhh...a meatloaf sandwich, Jordan," is the best I could come up with. Unfortunately, it wasn't good enough.
"A PETEloaf sandwich, huh? Tell me. Did Pete struggle much?"
"Leave him alone!" bellowed Jenny, bless her soul. But it was for naught.
"Stay out of this, Sam Elliot!" retorted Jordan. "I hear we're dissecting that Wookie on your face next Biology class."
At this Jenny left crying. She should have known better. A woman doesn't try to come to a man's rescue. That's just silly. But I was still pissed at how Jordan treated her. I wanted to eat the smirk off his face. Instead I took a swig from my Ocean Spray.
"What you drinking there, zombie? Is it blood?" Jordan taunted.
(don'tlethimbateyou...don'tlethimbateyou...don'tlethimbateyou...)
"No. It's a juice box." Once again, it's the best I could come up with.
"What's that, zombie? a Bruce box?" he continued. "How does Bruce taste? Did he struggle like Pete? Was he helpless? Was he, like, a baby? Is that it, zombie? Was Bruce a baby? Do you eat babies, zombie? Huh? Do you eat babies?!?"
(don'tlethimbateyou...don'tlethimbateyou...don'tlethimba-fuck it!)
"YES! Yes, I eat babies! They're the veal of humanity! Mmmmmmm! So tasty! I like the way the meat falls off their little, bendy, un-developed bones without even cooking them! The best part is sucking the head like a crawdad...because that's where they keep the stem cells! Mmmmmmmm. Babies! Can't get enough of them! In fact, isn't your mom expecting?"
"Ye...yeah. My brother. In March," Jordan replied, agog.
"My mouth waters thinking of him basting in all that amniotic fluid."
At this, Jordan started looking a trifle green. I continued.
"You think you could get me a copy of the ultrasound? I'm compiling a menu."
Silence.
"No? Could you at least be a champ and fry up some of the placenta for me after he's born?"
I've heard people joke about it, but I never thought anyone could actually vomit in their own mouth until I saw Jordan do just that.
And then he ran.
Afterward, J looked at me and just said, "Dude!"
And I picked up my sammich and took a big bite, which contained almost zero people.
Especially Petes. There were no Petes in my sammich!
Maybe a Drew or two...and some worcestershire sauce.
So now you know a little about zombies...like not to fuck with us. So go a write a term paper about us or hold a useless march and spread the "good word" (as jesus says)...
ZOMBIES DON'T EAT exclusively PEOPLE!
Alright everyone. Love you mean it.
Until next time.
phhrttttt?
I really love couscous. We just had it for dinner and it was GruUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUBbbbbbbb!
(apply appropriate, hard-rock wolfmother falsetto to that last line, please)
Hello everyone. What did you eat today? Yeah? Awesome! What do you think I ate today? Give up? I just told you, dummy! COUSCOUSMoFo'ah!
I bet when I asked you what I ate today, you paused and thought that maybe I ate people.
It's alright. You can admit it.
That's something that people often ask me: "Hello Scott," they say. "What do you like to eat?"
And I'm, like, "Food. You?"
Yeah. I know. Reeeeeeally witty, huh? But these are other 15 year old virgins that usually ask me so they laugh at my shitty jokes.
"Hahahahahahah! No really. What do you, you know, eat for food? Is it like brains and shit?"
So, yeah...if you haven't noticed yet: I'm a zombie. All too true. As you probably already know, attached to zombies is the stigma that we just eat people. Well that's just silly. I need you to listen to me, and listen to me now. Zombies don't eat people only. I know that we've all seen the movies where zombies are all eating people and shit. But that's the movies! Do you believe everything you've seen in the movies? Do you? You all saw "Schindler's List", right? Do you believe that actually happened?
Now, I can't really blame you. You're ignorant. All you know about my kind is what you see in the movies. So, it's understandable that you think that we eat people only. This isn't true. We eat lots of things. But we do not eat just people.
Yesterday I sat down to lunch in the caf' with J, Jenny and my brown bag full of lunchety lunch goodness that my "latina" maid, Khieu (she told me she prefers to be called "latina" over "mexican"...actually, she told me she prefers to be called "cambodian", but i'm not going to humor her delusions...so she's "latina"), packed for me. I was shooting the shit with my peeps and about to bite into my sammich when Jordan, the guy who tripped Jeff last month, if you'll remember, plops down next to me and yells, "Hey losers! What's up!"
I don't really like Jordan. He's popular and good at sports and everything (he's on the swim team with J), but he's kind of a dick. I looked at Jenny and rolled my eyes. She rolled them back. I looked at J, expecting to share the same response, but he was just smiling at Jordan.
"Hey, Jor-dawg. How's your penis?"
Jordan turned a little red and just looked away. I don't know. It must be a swim team thing.
Unfortunately, he turned his gaze directly at me and my sandwich. "What you got there, Lan-FEAR? A people pasty? A man-on-rye? Who's in there? Monty and Carlo?"
"Uhhhh...a meatloaf sandwich, Jordan," is the best I could come up with. Unfortunately, it wasn't good enough.
"A PETEloaf sandwich, huh? Tell me. Did Pete struggle much?"
"Leave him alone!" bellowed Jenny, bless her soul. But it was for naught.
"Stay out of this, Sam Elliot!" retorted Jordan. "I hear we're dissecting that Wookie on your face next Biology class."
At this Jenny left crying. She should have known better. A woman doesn't try to come to a man's rescue. That's just silly. But I was still pissed at how Jordan treated her. I wanted to eat the smirk off his face. Instead I took a swig from my Ocean Spray.
"What you drinking there, zombie? Is it blood?" Jordan taunted.
(don'tlethimbateyou...don'tlethimbateyou...don'tlethimbateyou...)
"No. It's a juice box." Once again, it's the best I could come up with.
"What's that, zombie? a Bruce box?" he continued. "How does Bruce taste? Did he struggle like Pete? Was he helpless? Was he, like, a baby? Is that it, zombie? Was Bruce a baby? Do you eat babies, zombie? Huh? Do you eat babies?!?"
(don'tlethimbateyou...don'tlethimbateyou...don'tlethimba-fuck it!)
"YES! Yes, I eat babies! They're the veal of humanity! Mmmmmmm! So tasty! I like the way the meat falls off their little, bendy, un-developed bones without even cooking them! The best part is sucking the head like a crawdad...because that's where they keep the stem cells! Mmmmmmmm. Babies! Can't get enough of them! In fact, isn't your mom expecting?"
"Ye...yeah. My brother. In March," Jordan replied, agog.
"My mouth waters thinking of him basting in all that amniotic fluid."
At this, Jordan started looking a trifle green. I continued.
"You think you could get me a copy of the ultrasound? I'm compiling a menu."
Silence.
"No? Could you at least be a champ and fry up some of the placenta for me after he's born?"
I've heard people joke about it, but I never thought anyone could actually vomit in their own mouth until I saw Jordan do just that.
And then he ran.
Afterward, J looked at me and just said, "Dude!"
And I picked up my sammich and took a big bite, which contained almost zero people.
Especially Petes. There were no Petes in my sammich!
Maybe a Drew or two...and some worcestershire sauce.
So now you know a little about zombies...like not to fuck with us. So go a write a term paper about us or hold a useless march and spread the "good word" (as jesus says)...
ZOMBIES DON'T EAT exclusively PEOPLE!
Alright everyone. Love you mean it.
Until next time.
phhrttttt?
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