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The Daily Zombie: Today's date is ... it does not matter anymore.

Why Zombie?

Sunday, 28 June 2009 09:08 | PDF Print E-mail

Ruby Tombstone

Regular contributor and well-known zombie advocate Ruby Tombstone, discusses the merits of being a zombie, in a world where zombies are still treated as a minority. Zombies are advised that if they are struggling with this issue themselves, free confidential counselling is available from the trained volunteers of UndeathLine on 1800-UNDEAD.

Time and time again, living people ask me the age-old question, "Why Be A Zombie?". "Wouldn't you rather be dead than undead, or better still alive?". Humans can be so cruel. Some humans want to be vampires or werewolves or ghosts. Some humans find dragons to be all "majestic" or something. But I dig being a zombie and here's why:

Zombies Always Win 

Okay, so that might be a minor exaggeration, but think about it. Nine times out of ten, the brave human survivors escape the hordes of zombies surrounding their house/basement/mall, only to be eaten. Notch up another win for the zombies. You can't say that about vampires can you? The vampire almost always gets staked in the end. Lame.

Zombies Never Give Up 

Zombies are single-minded in their desire for warm quivering flesh and organs, and that's an admirable quality. Have you ever seen a zombie get shot, say "Fuck it", shrug and shuffle away? Never. A zombie never quits. A zombie can be doused in petrol and set alight, and it will still try to feast on your brains. That's dedication.

Zombies Are Everywhere

The zombie "virus" spreads quickly. What starts as a handful of zombies soon turns into a vast legion covering the landscape. How amazing is it when you see that footage of hundreds of thousands of zombies stretching as far as the eye can see? Now THAT's majestic. And that leads to the potential for someone eventually waking up and finding that they're "The Last Person on Earth". Spooky, no?

Zombies Are Individuals

There are bride zombies, stripper zombies, janitor zombies, biker zombies, even Dixieland Jazz Band zombies. The possibilities are endless. Whereas if you've seen one werewolf, you've pretty much seen them all.

Zombies Are Inherently Funny

Zombies are, or were, human. But for a range of reasons (decaying flesh, foul odour, rigor mortis, loss of higher brain function and fine motor skills etc) they run into trouble while trying to do normal everyday human things. And that my friends, is always funny. I saw a t-shirt the other day that showed a group of zombies at a protest rally. It said, "What do we want?", "BRAAAAINS!" "When do we want it?" "BRAAAAAINS!" See? Comedy gold.

Zombies Are Gruesome

Zombies eat flesh, preferably warm bleeding twitching human flesh. The human brain is their favourite delicacy. In turn, they can only be killed by the destruction of their own brain - a shot to the head, decapitation or fire usually. They can lose a limb and still keep going. They can be crawling with maggots whilst still functioning, at least to some extent. The zombie potential for gore is limitless! Let's face it, other than making the walls drip with blood occasionally, ghosts just aren't that gory. Compared with zombies, they're just a bit of a snooze.

My name's Ruby Tombstone. And I'm proud to be a zombie.


Last Updated (Wednesday, 08 July 2009 02:03)

 

HUMAN PROPAGANDA!!! ARRRR!!!

Friday, 26 June 2009 16:00 | PDF Print E-mail

The Night I Killed the Head Zombie Banker

By Col. Jim Howitzer, USMC

First of all, I want to say that I'm no hero. I'm just an ordinary American, living in an ordinary American town -- Richmond, VA -- with an ordinary, thirty-foot-long American flag on the front porch of my neo-colonial home. Just an ordinary colonel in the United States Marine Corps who served in three wars and, thanks to the divine mercy of Jesus, survived to tell the tale and kick ass another day. 

But recently, I had the humbling honor of being the man who finally put a cap in the ass of that Hank Paulson joker.
 
I'd been watching him all night, on TV. The NBC affiliate from D.C. had its traffic chopper up, in the middle of the night, following the exodus down the I-95 as thousands of Northern Virginia residents fled the oncoming figure of Hank Paulson heading south on foot down the middle of the freeway.

I was glued to the set. There he was, in night-goggle green. Hank Paulson himself, the Head Zombie Banker. He wobbled from side to side, arms outstretched in front of him, a dead look in his eyes, thousand-dollar bills falling out of his back pocket and littering the freeway. 

And in front of him, thousands of panicked drivers headed south, fleeing with their children and whatever valuables they could grab from their homes.

When Paulson passed the turnoff to Ashland, I knew he was coming this way. Instantly I understood the trouble we were in. The Virginia National Guard had been called to Charlotte, NC, to help fight the zombie uprising at the Bank of America headquarters. Our city was undefended. All we could do was pray to Jesus that the Head Zombie Banker would pass Richmond by.

But I knew that wasn't going to happen when I saw him following the cloverleaf onto the 295, and then taking the Pole Green Rd. exit.

He was coming straight for my neighborhood.

Fortunately, in the wake of Obama's election victory, I had recently stocked up on semi-automatic assault rifles. I went to the baby's room and pulled my shiny new AR-15 off the mobile where it hung over the crib. I put the wife and kids in the basement. Then I went out on the porch and sat down with the gun across my lap.

People came streaming down my street, running and pointing behind them. "He's coming this way!" someone shouted. I watched as my next-door neighbor and his wife jumped into the car, pajamas and all, and squealed off into the night. I knew there was no point running. The Head Zombie Banker cannot be reasoned with, cannot be placated by leaving all your worldly goods for him to do with as he pleases.

No sir -- the Head Zombie Banker only wants your brain. He wants your brain to believe that you have to spend your children's and grandchildren's and great-grandchildren's tax money on saving useless, corrupt fat cats on Wall Street. He will not stop until he has devoured the last of your common sense. You have to make a stand. You have to stop him where he stands. You can't give an inch.

So that's what I did. When I saw him coming down my street, I stood up and walked to the middle of my driveway, and waited with my gun. He saw me standing there. He turned to me, a glassy eye glaring at me through his monocle.

He came straight for me. I was amazed at how fast his legs -- long accustomed to golf carts -- could move. He was much faster than I'd expected, but not as fast as my lightning reflexes. As soon as one foot crossed onto my property, I pumped three shots into his chest. But I knew that would not stop him, and it didn't. He kept coming. Slower now, but still moving towards me.

"If we don't bail out the banks," he growled, "all of civilization will collapse. We'll have food riots in the streets."

"No!" I screamed. "You can't have my brain! You won't make me believe this bullshit!"

He was only a few feet away from me now, his arms outstretched, reaching for me. "We'll have to declare martial law," he moaned. "The Chinese will parachute in and take over the country."

"No!" I retorted. "You're spewing nonsense! The banks that made bad decisions should be allowed to collapse, so that healthier, smarter banks can take their place!"

"Seven hundred billion dollars!" he roared, reaching for me.

"No!" I yelled back. "Not a God-damn penny!"

And with that, I aimed straight between his beady eyes, and fired.

The first shot dropped him to his knees.

I fired again. He wobbled woozily. I fired a volley vertically up and down his face, splitting his skull and leaving a smear of zombie brain on the driveway. And that was that.

Today, that splatter of zombie brain is the number-one tourist attraction in suburban Richmond. I have the whole driveway cordoned off and charge five dollars to see the stain.
 
But despite all the attention, I don't see myself as a hero. I'm just a soldier. A soldier who killed the greatest threat to America today, but a soldier all the same, fighting for my country and my Lord.
 
Col. Jim Howitzer is the author of From Tripoli to Baghdad: The Perfect, Always-Victorious History of the Marines, and Vampires Vs. Viet Cong: A Comparative Tactical Analysis.

Last Updated (Wednesday, 08 July 2009 01:29)

 

June 25, 2009 - Zombies Lose Their Best Choreographer Ever

Friday, 26 June 2009 22:22 | PDF Print E-mail

They used to just shuffle aimlessley and out-of-synch, their cacophonic groaning a neverending noise in the night.

The he came along. And we became so much more.

Swayig in syncopation, lurching to a leader, we learned a new beat to groan:

"Do-doo-doo-do-dee-do". We made dancing terrifying again.

 

His connection to our kind may have began with a decades-old music video but it has deepend over the years.

Michael Jackson - 1983   Michael Jackson - 2000's

Musician, Dancer, Entertainer, Icon, and Zombie Crusader: we'll miss you, Thriller.

 

- garrrrr

 

p.s. raaarrr ggaaaooooooewwwww huururrrr....\ 

Last Updated (Sunday, 28 June 2009 22:39)

 

Shotguns - Threat or Menace?

Thursday, 11 June 2009 01:21 | PDF Print E-mail

HUagghhhhg gggarh bblllooooooooo hhhhhhhhhhhh  aaaaaaaaaaeaaeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrr! hhhuuurggghg  blerr gggrrrraaahhhhhggg? graglllooo flur. aarrrrrr! fffhhh arrr. arrrr fraaagggeeeee. 

Shotguns! Garrrr! 

garrr duuuuu  arrrrrr! toooo faaaaaaah. 

- garrrr 

Last Updated (Thursday, 11 June 2009 01:36)

 

Toronto Comedian Blamed for Knocking Them Dead

Saturday, 07 July 2007 09:54 | PDF Print E-mail

 

Lowering the bar for comedic tragedy, Toronto Comedian Marjorie Malpass  could not help but to take one last stab at an audience who looked like an "oil painting" for the first 25 minutes of her 30 minute act.

 "They were just sitting there with mouths open, not eating or drinking anything." recalls Marjorie as she interviews herself for this article,"then suddenly they all become quite re-animated. they charged the stage too, which is kinda flattering. It was much better than cats." ***

If anyone owns a suitable night club with an intact staff, please contact Marjorie immediatly.

*** Marjorie did not say these words, but were provided by her Agency as "probably something she would say." Please contact them with any information on her whereabouts. 

 		 Marjorie Malpass

 

Last Updated (Saturday, 02 May 2009 04:09)

 

Literary Reviews: Pride and Prejudice and Zombies

Saturday, 02 May 2009 23:30 | PDF Print E-mail

Hunnhhhh? ARRRRRRRR!!!!!

pride and prejudice and zombies

4 out of 5 stars. 

Last Updated (Saturday, 02 May 2009 23:31)

 

Keeping in Touch

Saturday, 07 July 2007 09:54 | PDF Print E-mail

Find Your Food Before They Find You - with the New BlackPlagueBerry GIS with Mashable Button Interface.

the daily zombie

Last Updated (Saturday, 02 May 2009 03:37)

 

Health Advice

Saturday, 07 July 2007 09:54 | PDF Print E-mail

Suffering from a bad back? Broke back? No Back?

Hip cracked or missing your whole lower torso? Losing alot of gunk and slime?

Not to worry says Head Scientist Guy who was in charge of original zombie experiment; " Look, cutting off pieces of their body or shooting them in the chest won't do anything. You have to aim for the head, it is their only weakness, the only way to stop..."

Thanks Doc! That's right, your health is non-issue so long as your keep your noggin safe. Now that's using your head.

Related Topic: The Mask of Vulcan: Can it be too good to be true?

Last Updated (Saturday, 02 May 2009 03:44)

 

Finish to Marathon Anxiously Awaited - Cold Conditions Blamed

Wednesday, 20 August 2008 10:11 | PDF Print E-mail

the current marathon leader Not with a bang but a wimper the first annual zombie marathon has ground to a virtual standstill. Seasonal weather means cold nights and the athletes - already not very fast - have not moved for the last several hours. 

One thankful spectator comments "marathon!? what marathon!!?! these creatures are everywhere in every direction - aiiiieeeeeeeee!"

Some have suggested that the event be postponed until warmer weather, while others point to the stucture of a marathon itself as an event unsuitable to the undead.

Organizers could not be reached for comment. Several hydration station volunteers were taken to hospital missing arms and hands. 

Pictured left is the current leader of the sporting event, baaarrr, who had wandered closest to the finishing line in an ever spreading circle of zombie participants before freezing up. 

Stay tuned for warmer weather. 

Last Updated (Saturday, 02 May 2009 03:12)

 

Fashion News Update: Earth Colours.

Saturday, 07 July 2007 09:54 | PDF Print E-mail

Though green and purple have dominated the fashion underworld since, well, *for-ever* there is a new trend gaining roots in the rich zombie slacker demographic. Browns, greys and midnight olive are emerging from nowhere with no shortage of walking mannequins showing them off. 

"This only makes sense in light of the historical data regarding the habits of these particular zombies," observed a passing man who claimed to be an expert (and in a hurry), "these are the ones who spend the longest in the ground, struggling up slowly, or climing out from old mine shaft. Places like that. Will you let go of my arm now?"

So next time you are fleeing across a runway, take the time to notice the fashion statements chasing. Hey, they put the effort in, so the least you could do is show some appreciation for how they put themselves back together.

Next week's column: When is tie and jacket too far gone to eat waiters at a fancy restaurant?

Last Updated (Saturday, 02 May 2009 03:22)

 

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