skot AT izzlepfaff DOT com
Wednesday, 31 March
Searching For Answers
Some of you may have been wondering where I've been keeping myself. Well, the truth is, I've been doing hard research. Hanging out at Yahoo! Answers, I've been tracking trends among question topics, and the findings are . . . well, they're strange. Y!A has recently seen an uptick in questions regarding zombies, monkeys, pirates and extreme violence. My initial thesis so far: Obama's presidency has unleashed an outbreak of insanity on society. Also, zombies. What follows are representative examples of these trends.
Zombie Temp Has No Brains
So since the zombie apocalypse hit, I've been having problems with our most recently hired temp Theresa. I'm the IT guy in our office, and I'm a little stumped as to what to do. Theresa has moved from being a pretty steady data entry gal into being a gurgling zombie who shouts for BRAINS! and has taken to hitting and shaking her monitor and eating her surrounding cubemates. I mean, she really beats the hell out of those monitors. Is this going to invalidate the warranties? They're Dells and I'm in Wichita if it makes any difference. Thanks!
Helper Monkey NOT HELPING
Long shot, probably. Does anyone have any experience with helper monkeys? I'm a quadriplegic, and I rely on my little guy to help me out with everyday tasks like steaming the couch cushions, grooming my proud golden beard and light typing. Lately, though, Carl has started to SEND BANANAS IMMEDIATELY TO BARRY SCHULTZ, C/O CARL, 187 BEARDO PLACE, WICHITA, KANSAS 67276 and it's starting to drive me nuts. I've tried having close relatives beat him savagely, but it always just ends up with bared fangs and hurt feelings. Any ideas appreciated.
Last week on the ESPN show "Pardon The Interruption," zombie Tony Kornheiser ate the face of his co-host Michael Wilbon. As Wilbon screamed haplessly and flapped his arms comically while Kornheiser devoured the flesh from his skull, I idly wondered if Michael Wilbon was considered kosher. I am not Jewish, so I'm pretty ignorant of the details. It is, however, my understanding that Michael Wilbon is part hyrax, which complicates matters somewhat. Anyone? Wikipedia is unclear, except for the hyrax part.
That's what I screamed when a crocodile ate both of my hands. (Don't ask.) A pirate by trade, I find myself having to consider new job avenues now that I have hooks for hands. I've recently begun performing massage therapy, and my clients seem to appreciate the deep pressure I'm able to apply with the rounded backsides of my iron hooks. Now here's the issues. I tore one guy up pretty good when my mind wandered and I forgot to invert my hooks; I'm now being convicted of manslaughter. Like I needed that. The other complication is that every now and then I've inadvertently killed several back-spasming faeries with the touch of my cold iron hooks. There's a whole stack of them in the basement, and it's beginning to be awkward explaining the gently glowing pile of dead mythological creatures to my wife. Have any hook-handed ex-pirate masseurs experienced similar issues?
So! Last month I was visiting Wichita and I went to a bar (don't remember the name . . . I think there was an ampersand in it) and was served an incredible cocktail and I can't find it anywhere else! It's killing me! I remember that the bartender called it Pat Morita's Hydraulic Arm, and it was some mixture of rye whiskey, cat dander, bitters and human hair. I've tried making it at home with some limited success, but my cat now just hides all day and my girlfriend is pretty pissed off at me for shaving her head in the middle of the night and she's bald. I can always scam some dander from the local kennels, but the human hair thing is a sticking point. So here's my question: does anyone have Sam Waterston trapped in their basement dungeon? I'd be willing to offer fair market price for the guy so I could farm his eyebrows on a regular basis. I hope this isn't a misuse of Yahoo, but I'm getting desperate. (I know, you are unable to provide legal guidance in this matter, nor are you a Saw-like murderous captor.)
The other night I was sitting home as usual watching "Hoarders" while the familiar noises of my neighbors' corpses being eaten by the living dead came through the walls. Whatever, Tuesdays. Anyway, at some point a familiar dull thudding came at my door. But instead of the usual guttural cries of "BRAAAAIIIINS!" I heard the lifeless chant of "CAAAARROOOOT CAAAAAAKE!" WTF? So I spent a few minutes removing the nailed-on boards that I'd been using as a barricade and opened the door to behold a typical-looking zombie. "CAAAAARROOOOOT CAAAAAKE!" he moaned, holding his arms out in front of him, etc. He smelled awful, but with a hint of holiday spices. "I don't have any carrot cake," I said. "I might have some bialys." He didn't respond for a moment, but then slumped and dropped his arms. It was kind of sad. Anyway, my question is, has anyone else seen this guy? The reason I ask is, Albertson's actually has some carrot cake, and I figured he'd dig that (and the staff is all dead), so if anyone has encountered this fellow, let me know--I have coupons. My throwaway email is firstname.lastname@example.org. Oh, and this was in Wichita.
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Hilarious, Skott. Point taken. Avoid Wichita. Probably the entire central states region would be good.
Are you sure that the zombie looking for "CAAAAARROOOOOT CAAAAAKE!" was actually looking for carrot cake? It may have been looking for "car root cake," which is when a car abandoned in the undead apocalypse is so overgrown with roots that they cake up over the chassis. The all-meat diet of zombies frequently causes them constipation--contrary to common belief, they're not yelling "BRAAAAINS!" but "BRAN!" They just need fiber. Go on an all-viscera diet for a week and you'll find out what they're going through.
Have you ever seen a zombie poop? No, and that's my point exactly!
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