Zombie Pie Fight!!!!

Over the hills and far away.

2008-04-29T18:21:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow has become our yesterday.

Endless, nameless, dreams, delusions.

Nightmares, laughter, sweat, confusion.

Go away.

Just...

Go...

AWAY........

All I gotta do is... Act naturally.

2006-03-27T17:59:00.000-08:00

Hey there friends and fiends, this isn't what I originally had planned to post, but due to the news of Country Music Legend, Buck Owen's passing, I thought it would be appropriate to acknowledge my old buddy today instead.

I met Buck back in 1964. He was red hot after hitting number one with "Love's Gonna Live Here". I on the other hand, was a struggling song writer barely making ends meet. He heard me playing my setlist of banging tunes one night, and we had drinks after the show. He told me, "Man, your music isn't that good, but the way you get all those women to strip naked and hump long-necks is something else!" We exchanged numbers, but I didn't think much of it until a few years later.

I was enjoying success with my album, "101 Ways To Shove A Dead Chicken Up Your Ass", which had been steadily climbing the charts for the first half of 1968, while Buck was still cranking out hit after country hit.

"Zombie," I remember Buck saying enthusiastically on the phone that warm July day. "I've got a gig lined up that I think you'll be perfect for. It's a country music style variety show with jokes, music, and all the tits and ass anyone could ever want. Why don't you get your dead ass down here and we'll fuck some of those sweeties and do a little coke? Then afterwards we can work out the details of the television show."

I agreed, and by August, we were filming a test pilot for a little tv show some of you might have heard of called HEE HAW. It was dorky as shit, but it was a lot of fun too. The on set, off camera orgies had to be seen to believed. There was bestiality galore, corn cob dildos, moonshine enemas, crotch vomiting, and queefing like I've never heard before or since. We were elbow deep in sinful depravity, and I was loving it.

So what happened? Why don't any of you remember me starring in HEE HAW? Sadly, the fuckfaces over at CBS decided in their infinite wisdom to replace me with Roy Clark. They thought the show had potential, but the test audiences were frightened of a banjo playing zombie with a super large cock. They said I would frighten old ladies and small children, that I just wasn't a wholesome enough element.

Buck with my replacement, the wholesome Roy Clark.

Just like that, my future as co-host of the long running HEE HAW show was no more.

It's ok though. It's a great memory, and Buck was a hell of a lot of fun. There are plenty more crazy stories to be told, but I guess this is enough of a stroll down memory lane for one day, so I'll leave it at that.

So long old buddy.

Rest in peace Buck!

***

The answer to the my BIG GUESS WHO WEEKEND was Mick Mars. I'm sorry to say that there were no winners and no prizes awarded, but I did have a ton of fun reading all of your guesses. Better luck next time, and thanks for playing!

Hooray! It's a BIG GUESS WHO WEEKEND!

2006-03-25T03:11:00.000-08:00

That's right folks, it's a new era of fun and amusement here at Zombie Pie Fight. Today is the first, of what I'm sure are to be many, BIG GUESS WHO WEEKENDS.

Now, I know you're skeptical. I'm sure you're wondering how much this is going to cost you, and if I accept Visa, Paypal, or wet sloppy Blowjobs.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Silly reader. This game is FREE. And if you guess who this is, you might even win a prize. Maybe.

So have at it lezzies and germs. It's time to play!

Do you know who this is?

Here is your clue: This is not Garth Brooks.

Answer to be revealed at the bottom of the next exciting and porn filled update.

This town needs an enema...

2006-03-20T23:40:00.000-08:00

So hey, I don't have a lot to say today, but I was thinking about something I do and wondering if it was ~~really fucked up~~ weird. Ok, since it's me we're talking about, I guess the answer is YES!

Here's the thing. I kind of like things perfect, or as perfect as I can make them, and when I fix something to eat, it just seems wrong to put hot food on a cold plate, so what I do is warm up the plates and bowls in the microwave just before it's time to use them.

Warm plates/bowls + Warm food = A happier dining experience for Zombie.

I don't know anyone who does this besides me. Am I really that deranged, fucked up, and brain buggered, or do you think this is kind of clever?

Do any of you monkeys do such a thing as this?

Or do any of you just have some weird type thing you do in general when you eat such as vomiting on your food ala BrundleFly, or leave things in the fridge until they're green but still eat them anyway because it's 4 am and mistress natty lite has made you very, very, hungry?

Let me know ok.

Or fucking don't.

The choice is yours.

This site has been shut down for being too cool.

2006-03-20T01:15:00.000-08:00

Ain't it a bitch?

I'll get it straightened out. I know people.

My fame continues to grow...

2006-03-19T18:17:00.000-08:00

As many of you know, my fame throughout the land is quite legendary. Not a day goes by without someone wanting me to take a bite of their brains, autograph their breasts, or give them a glance at my magnificent giant slalom.

I'm usually just going about the ordinary business of the day when this happens too. You know, the normal daily stuff, such as trips to the liquor store, visiting whore-houses, scoring up some H, and taking in the occasional porno film at the adult bookstore.

It's getting to the point that I can go nowhere without causing a stir.

But that's ok. It's just fame. I enjoy it.

HEY GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE WITH THAT CAMERA!!!!!!!!!!!

*Smiles*

Now where were we?

Oh yes, my point is that I am bigger than ever.

And I'm not just saying that because I gained 250 pounds over the last couple of months!

Nope, I'm talking about sure signs that a person has arrived. For instance, like when people start to make things about you. This is the kind of cool shit that proves you're somebody in the world.

Like this guy.

I'm somebody now!

Anyway, here is something that I thought kicked ass. It's me in action figure form. How fucking cool is that?

And here's something else I thought was cool. A friend of mine who is known worldwide as the ninja of knitting, MadameD, emailed me this picture.

Evidently someone made some knit figures of the original "Dawn Of The Dead" zombies. Quite frankly, I think this kicks more ass than a meth milkshake with a cherry painted rock on top.

The one on the left is the Hare Krishna zombie.

The middle one is the nurse zombie.

The one in the middle front is of course, me, the famous Zombie Flyboy!

I am having a hard time figuring out who the one on the right is though, and it's really driving me crazy. Anyone know which one it is? I guess I should go watch the movie again and see if I can figure it out.

Anyway, it's all just further evidence of my growing fame. Yep, I've made it in the world. I'm a real go getter, a big fat fucking famous amos if there ever was one.

...

...

...

Now excuse me. I have to go take out the garbage and wash the birdshit off of my truck.

Later!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2006-03-17T06:22:00.000-08:00

click to rebigulate

"The scariest movie I have seen since "Cannonball Run III". -Roger Ebert

I'm gonna be drunk a lot this week.

2006-03-12T23:00:00.000-08:00

There’s not much that can be done about it.

Hey, when mistress Natty Lite comes a knocking, baby I answer the door!

However, I want you all to know that my drunkedness will NOT affect the quality (HAHAHAHAHAHA) of my posting, no, not even a teeny tiny monkey pube’s worth.

So how was everyone’s weekend? Did you get laid? Watch a movie? Do lots of good dope?

Mine wasn’t too bad. We got our first big storm of the year including a tornado. I wish it had happened during the day, as I have a buddy who is a storm chaser, and sometimes I ride along. It's cool. It’s just like going riding around with a cop, except instead of chasing drug dealers, burglars, and big tittied hos, we chase big crazy tornados which can create suction and wind forces well in excess of the one hundred mile per hour range.

Hmmm. Now that I think about it, I know a few big tittied hos who can do the same thing, so maybe it’s not THAT different than riding around with the cops after all.

Anyway, the storms were out and about Saturday and Sunday. The storm prediction guys had a super cell tracked and heading my way, but I wasn’t worried. My little piss-ant po-dunk town was though. They blew the civil defense sirens and you should have seen the people get the fuck out of dodge. They fucking split! You’d have thought Rosie O’Donnell was dancing through the neighborhood naked, globs of fat bouncing and shimmering hypnotically in the strobe like effect of the lightning strikes, while fat Britney and greasy Kevin follow closely behind, happily licking the shit-stains out of her rancid fart hole.

I have to tell you, if all that was going on, I'd have left too. But that wasn’t the case. All we had was a tornado on the way, and although I do have recurring dreams about them, I am not afraid. You see, when I was a young zombie I was taught by an old medicine man how to handle the storms. He told me that if I found a stump, and drove an axe into it, the storm would split and go around. Unfortunately, I don’t have a stump anywhere handy or an axe, so that plan was definitely out.

I do have a kickass plan b though, and this is what I do. I go outside and look in the general direction the storm is coming from. Then I glare at it really mean. I shake my fist. Then I point my pointy finger of doom (I learned this trick from a special friend) at the storm and yell things like, “You call yourself a storm? I’ve seen queefs that were louder and windier than you! Is that all you got storm? Is that all? I hope it’s not, because I am going to fist you right in that big fat funnel cloud cunt. I’m going to smack you around for bringing that weak shit in here, because I’m the Juggernaut Bitch!”

This works every time, and I have yet to have any tornados take me up on my challenge. They always veer off like the craven pig nipples that they are. It’s just as well really, as I’d rather save up my energy for more productive tasks, like binge drinking, giving people the herp, and digging up shocking secrets about Flange Simpson.

We got some hail though. It was about the size of the big marbles. I think they are called shooters. I’m not positive on this, as I wasn’t born in 1935. Sorry. I picked up a handful and took a picture that I was going to post, because the hail was cool, but my stupid camera is the suck and the picture turned out looking like baboon ass.

So no picture of the hail for you, do not piss go, do not fuck for two hundred dollars.

And that was pretty much my weekend.

Burppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp!

Steal My Birthday And You WILL Go Down.

2006-03-10T01:58:00.000-08:00

As many of you know, I recently discovered that the no talent sperm receptacle Jessica Simpson had stolen my birthday.

This angered me greatly.

As many of you also know, when I get mad, I get even. So off to my million dollar research facilities, hidden somewhere in the mountains of lower Kanza-Loompara, I went. I had only been there a few minutes when my special ZOM-CO brand computers (patent pending) began to spit out some alarming data. I checked and I double checked to make certain no errors had been made. I narrowed the parameters. I reconfigured the flux capacitor. I pounded the flange hydrocellator.

I even drank some purple soda, but that is another experiment for another time.

The results remained the same.

A shocking correlation had been discovered.

I just had to make sure.

So finally, I ran the last test with my own ZOM-CO brand facial recognition software (patent pending). My software is always right, and never fucks up the way that shit software did a while back. You know, the shit software that said I looked like super tardo Juliet Lewis.

I DO NOT LOOK LIKE THIS!

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway.

Here is what my investigation has uncovered...

Jessica Simpson is really Michael Jackson!

Click To Enlarge

This is a time lapsed montage of Jessica Simpson's disguise being broken down and removed by my super awesome ZOM-CO brand computer and special ZOM-CO brand software (patent pending).

Now you know why you've never seen pictures of the two of them taken together. Now you know why Nick divorced her skeezy over-rated and untalented poop-hole.

But this is only the beginning I'm sure. My awesome as fuck ZOM-CO brand computers (patent pending) are still on the job and I'm not through with this birthday stealing shit blister by a long shot.

Stay tuned for more dirt and shocking secrets.

Booyah!

When there's no more room in hell... The dead will go roller skating.

2006-03-08T00:44:00.000-08:00

I think rigor mortis has finally set in. I'm very stiff, but not in the good way.

Bah! Ha! Ha! Ha!

But seriously...

Last night I did something that might surprise a lot of you folks. That's because all most of you know about is the fuck shit piss hell cock assblister fecal fetching cunt funnel side of me. It's a lovely side to know, sure, but there is more to me than that.

Anyway, I went to a skate birthday party thing last night.

Yeah.

You heard me.

I ~~skated~~ clomped and stomped, only busting my ass once or twice, but shit man, skating is a hell of a lot more tiring than I remember it being and I'm a little sore. I definitely don't think I have a future as a skating carhop at one of those "authentic" 1950's style diner type places.

I had suspected, but completely discovered last night, that roller skates and zombies mix about as well as Zombies and "Tiny" Tom Cruise.

Or Zombies and Retarded Rosie.

Or Zombies and She-Beast Simpson.

Anyway, you get the idea.

But I went because it was important to a little girl who means all the world to me, and that's all that matters.

I hate myself and want to die.

2006-03-06T13:12:00.000-08:00

So I was traveling around a while back, and during those travels, I went to this little hole in the wall diner type place. There wasn't a smoking or non-smoking section, which was kind of different but didn't matter at all in the grand scheme of things, as the entire place reeked of chili.

Chili happened to be the special of the day.

I did not order the chili.

But as I was reading the menu, I noticed they had a breakfast challenge. The deal was, if you could eat four and a half pounds of pancakes, then you got it for free.

This of course, got me to thinking, how many pancakes would that actually be?

By my guess, you'd have to eat between 35-60 pancakes to win that challenge. Maybe some of you out there who cook can actually figure out a real number for me.

Anyway, the point is, you'd have to eat a shitload of those suckers to get a free breakfast. I know for a fact that if I eat more than two or three, I feel like my stomach is going to fucking explode, or that it's all going to come back up.

Also figure that you're going to need syrup, and that pancakes are notorious for soaking up tons and tons of syrup. You will need several bottles worth at least. If you want butter, then you're probably going to need a big tub of that too. And if you want something to drink, which of course you will, then that will make you fill up even faster.

So I think this challenge is impossible.

What do y'all think?

P.S. I ordered a cheeseburger.

It wasn't bad.

The first rule of Zombie Pie Fight is, that you do not talk about Zombie Pie Fight.

2006-03-05T01:49:00.000-08:00

The second rule of Zombie Pie Fight is, that you DO NOT talk about Zombie Pie Fight.

Well I'm about to break that rule, so fuck it, and fuck you. Rules were made to be pissed on like scented urinal cakes and stepped all over like limp-dicked suck it all no back-boned fuckity fucks.

I get asked questions from time to time, but the most frequent one always is one variation or another of, "Zombie Flyboy, what does all this mean?", and the answer to that is simply this: Poonami Wasabi. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Seriously, I've dedicated my life to it. It's what I'm about, and it's what my site is about. So there you go. Now you know, and knowing is half the battle!

I've also been asked what the title to my site actually is, and what it means. I guess it's because my url says one thing, and my banner says another. The official title is Zombie Pie Fight!!!!

Fun With Zombies, and undead fisting action are just subtitles, put there because the voices in my head told me to do that. And believe you fucking me, Sandy D, it would be very bad to go against the voices in my head. Real bad.

Michael Jackson BAD!

Yes Madame D, I used this picture again just for you!

So what does it mean? What the hell is a Zombie Pie Fight? Easy, one of my favorite movies is the original "Dawn Of The Dead", and at the end of it, guess what? There is a pie fight between zombies and a biker gang. It's fucking insane, and just as damn weird as it sounds. Maybe even weirder. I remember watching that for the very first time. I just looked at it, and one thought kept racing back and forth across the pothole filled highways of my mind. The thought was this: "What the fuck? Ha! Ha! Ha! What the fuck? Ha! Ha! Ha! What the fuck? Ha! Ha! Ha!"

So that's where the name came from and why it is used. I know more than once after posting something, I've thought, "What the fuck? Ha! Ha Ha!", and I know for a fact that some of you readers have thought something along similar lines. So there you have it. If that made no sense, it's because you're really stupid, and there is no hope for you. Please leave immediately and get back to watching "According To Jim".

Another thing I've been asked is, if this is a site about zombies, how come I never talk about zombies? Well people, I have done that. But just as my interests are not confined to one single thing in life, neither shall my buttlog be. I've discussed horror movies and the undead here, and will do so again, because these matters are near and queer to my cold dead heart. I'll also talk about what is going on in the world, my life, pop-culture, gigantic asses, and whatever else the fuck I want to talk about. If you don't like it, suck my giant slalom and don't even think about spitting.

Ok, I guess that'll be enough about my site for now. I'm getting bored writing about it, and I'm pretty sure you're getting tired of reading about it. I do have one more thing to say before I end this, and it is mainly for the purposes of clearing up some confusion created in my last puke inducing post. The confusion seems to be that it was my birthday, or that my birthday was coming up. It is not, and was not my birthday. I was just attempting to convey how upsetting it was to learn that I shared the same birthday as a true wretched skid mark on the underpants of humanity. I couldn't have felt any worse than if I'd just learned that my grandfather was Hitler.

Not Zombie Flyboy's Grandfather!!!

That would have been pretty hard to take too. Ugh.

Thanks anyway for the happy birthdays though. I appreciate it.

Really.

Oh horrible and cruel FATE! Why must you constantly shove broken beer bottles up my ass?

2006-03-02T01:30:00.000-08:00

Ladies, gentlemen, transexuals of all ages...

I have learned of something horrible and I am so upset that I could angrily anal fist entire countries, continents, and even the entire populations of planets.

I WANT BLOOD!

I WANT REVENGE!

This calls for my special prayer of anger.

Oh great spirit of movie and television tough guy TELLY SAVALAS, I conjure and pray for advice from thee. What should I do in this time of trouble? How can I fart in the face of adversity and piss down the throat of persecution? Let forth the light from your mighty bald pate and maketh it to shine down upon me. Grant me wisdom and guide my mighty hand, so that it will strike true and swift. Give me the strength to remove the dark sided and tainted one who has ruined my life.

I feel like chicken tonight! Like chicken tonight!

Amen..

This situation is way worse than the time my dad took me to go see city heat.

It's worse than Richard Simmon's hair.

It's worse than Michael Jackson's plastic surgery.

It's worse than this website (I wouldn't click that if I were you.) .

It's worse than anything.

For you see...

I just learned that this awful.

And thing most foul.

Shares the same birthday.

AS ME!

And fuck am I pissed about it.

This isn't over you birthday stealing, over-rated, brain dead jizz fart. Not by a long shot.

The only two people allowed to be born on my b-day are me, and my father Fred Gwynne.

Bad things are going to happen pizza puss. Very bad things.

To you.

Not me.

I have written down your name in my book of rage.

Psssshawwwwww.

Uh oh Spaghetti-O!

2006-03-01T01:16:00.000-08:00

It's time for another WEIRD QUESTION!

You are offered $1 million dollars. Here is the deal, you can only consume food that has been pre-chewed for you into an oozey paste-like fluid.

What will happen, is that everytime you get hungry, you'll have to let the food chewer know. He/she will go get what you want to eat and chew it all up for you and then spit the saliva paste mixture into your mouth like a momma bird feeding its baby. This will go on for the rest of your life.

So, do you take the money and live the liquid diet lifestyle?

Yes or No?

There is definitely a glitch in the matrix here.

2006-02-27T01:03:00.000-08:00

Ok, the other day, I was at Dawn's fantabulous site and came across this thing called my heritage.

It's basically a face recognition program that scans your face and then tells you who you look like. I guess the plan is to help you track down long lost relatives or some shit. I don't know. What I do know, is that I was intrigued, and had to try it out for myself.

So how did my scan go?

Well, let's just say that my ugly, beastly, mug, really, and I mean REALLY fucked that sucker up. For the tiny, tiny, tiny, few who read this buttlog and have actually seen me, prepare to laugh.

This is pretty weird.

My matches.

David Blaine

OK. He's ugly, I'm ugly. I don't look exactly like this, but we both share the same hateful expression, have stupid looking facial hair, and mean eyes. Plus we are both magical. So this one is pretty far off, but we do share a few things in common I guess.

Dalida: (January 17, 1933 - May 3, 1987) was an Egyptian-born singer, of Italian origin, making her career in France. She received 55 golden records and was the first songstress to get a diamond disc.

I didn't know her, so thought I'd post some details. I don't know that I look anything like that, being a MAN and all, but at least she's kinda pretty. It does kind of concern me that my next to the best match for who I look like was a woman though.

Selma Blair

Come on My Heritage. Come on. Selma is a hot chick. Rob Schneider is a hot chick. I am NOT a HOT CHICK! I look nothing like this. Ok, maybe our basic features look a little alike, and I do mean a little, but shit man. Why does this thing keep saying I look like a girl? Fucker!

Lukas Moodysson: A swedish filmmaker.

I had no idea who he was so provided a little info. I am more this guys color than the previous people, and I do look a tiny bit like him. But once again, not very damn much. Oh well, at least it's saying I'm a man again.

Liam Aiken: Born January 7th, 1990, in New York City, it was apparent from the beginning that Liam was a natural actor. With his eyes and facial moves, he has been compared to Jim Carrey, but when it comes to character portrayals, Liam is his own person, with his own unique style. Liam attends school and when on the set, he has a tutor who gives him his homework.

Now I look like a fucking child? What is this crap? Bah! Fooey! I do have cool eyes and facial moves though.

Namie Amuro: Amuro Namie was one of the most popular pop singers in Japan during the 90s and perhaps the most successful of all time. Namie's musical talent and dance abilities combined with her charisma and uncanny stage presence has won the hearts of fans all around the world.

This one is pretty far off, but not as much as I first thought. I guess my asian matches come from my native american heritage. Yeah, my irish and whatever else fucked up my tan, making me a white, sunshine hating freak, but I do have some non-caucasion features . And once again My Heritage, I am not a woman! Jeez.

Juliette Lewis

I am getting very, very, confused. Do I look like a woman? Do I look like this tardo? Maybe? No? Fuck if I know!

Emmy Rossum: Starred in "The Day After Tomorrow" and "Mystic River".

I think she's quite pretty, but I can say for damn certain I look nothing like her. Nothing. If I did, she would be working in a meat packing plant in South Dakota or something, as she'd be too ugly to star in movies. I do have female relatives who look kind of like that though. Sort of. Hmmm.

Mamoru Oshi: Born August 8, 1951 in Tokyo is a Japanese animation and live-action film writer and director. Presently, Oshii lives in Atami, Shizuoka prefecture, Japan with his dogs Â a basset hound named Gabriel and a mutt named Daniel.

Well, the good news is that I at least match another guy. However, I look NOTHING like that. I don't know where the match came from there. No idea at all. Maybe the round face. My face is a little roundish.

Ashley Olsen

Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag. I am the long lost Olsen Triplet. Now it can be told. Ha ha ha ha ha.

Well, that was fun and more than a little strange. You all should definitely give it a try. See if it does better for you than me. If you took the top four and morphed them together, you might be able to come up with something that looks a little like me. It's possible I guess.

I really do think people who are mutts with questionable pedigrees like me are harder to scan. I think that's why it thought I was white, jewish, italian, and whatever else.

I still am not sure why it thinks I look like all these women though. Believe me, I am all man baby.

RAWWWRRRR.

Don't make me whip out my GIANT SLALOM!

RIP X 2

2006-02-26T23:09:00.000-08:00

Don Knotts

Rest in peace Mr. Knotts. You rocked. You made me laugh. You were a genius. You'll be missed. What more can I say?

Darren McGavin

A lot of you might only know him from his hilarious stint as Ralphie's leg-lamp loving dad in "A Christmas Story", but a long time ago McGavin also starred in a tv show called "Kolchak: The Night Stalker". I was a big fan when I was little, and it helped to warp my mind into the horror freak that I am today. Rest in peace.

Just a thought.

2006-02-25T03:44:00.000-08:00

This is just a thought I had. A crazy little thought.

A certain female is to blame for all of this, even though she doesn't realize it. But the seeds for this idea are all on her. Who is she? I'll give you a hint. Her initials start with Bucky and end with Four-Eyes.

So if you figure out who I'm talking about, good on you.

Anyway, here's what I was thinking. Work with me on this you magnificent fucks. Ok?

If Julie Andrews were uglier, constipated, and a lesbian, she would be Jane Hathaway from "The Beverly Hillbillies".

Am I right? Am I right?

I say YES!

Olympic Fever!

2006-02-23T01:25:00.000-08:00

Ok, who here has Olympic fever?

How many of you have been chain smoking cigarettes like there is no tomorrow, anxiously awaiting the scores and medal totals to be posted? Can I see a show of hands please?

Ha ha ha ha. That's what I thought!

Man, do the Winter Olympics suck harder than a Hoover vacuum cleaner controlled by the robotic android brain of a dead two-dollar whore or what?

Yes they do.

Fucking Olympics. Just take a look at some of the events.

Curling?

Oooooooh. Better not have a heart condition when you play that shit, it's INTENSE!

The luge?

Hold me back baby, hold me the fuck back!

Nordic Combined...

What the fuck? Seriously, what the fuck? How is that fun?

Giant Slalom...

This doesn't look like must see TV to me, but the name is a little catchy. Hmm. I think I'm going to start calling my penis the Giant Slalom. Yes. That could work quite nicely.

Anyway, you get the point. The Winter Olympics are a joke. The only reason we even have them is to give white people a way to win medals.

Plus, the French and Russian Judges are big fat cheating sacks of shit.

So suck it Olympics.

Suck my big fat Giant Slalom and swallow!

That is all.

If a zombie posts in the abandoned buttlogger forest, will anyone hear it?

2006-02-21T01:04:00.000-08:00

It's been a long time. I don't know if anyone still comes here or not. I know I haven't been here since my last post a few months ago, and it feels pretty strange to be back. I'm nervous actually.

I'm sorry I just left all of a sudden like that. It hasn't really been a good last six months for me, with the last three being especially tough.

I'm not going to get into it in great detail here, because I don't feel my problems are any worse or bigger than anyone else's. We all deal with stuff. We all have pain. We all gotta get through it.

Basically what happened was this. I lost a couple of people who were important to me. One was expected, due to a long illness. It didn't make it easier, but at least I could attempt to prepare myself. The other, just happened. It was quick, sudden, shocking.

And I miss them both.

A lot.

So there you have it.

I'm ok.

The nonsense will return. I've really missed reading all the crazy and cool stuff you all write, and I've missed disgusting you with pictures of giant asses.

But most of all, I've missed out on a lot of good laughs. I think it's high time I got around to doing something about that.

Later everyone.

I'll be seeing you around.

Zombie Flyboy

Eggplant! Eggplant! Eggplant! Radish!

2005-12-01T20:09:00.000-08:00

So I've been a little reflective lately, which is kind of rare for a live in the undead moment kind of guy like me, but the death of my old sensei kind of hit me hard and I started to think back on all the things in life I have learned thus far.

I present to you...

TEN TRUTHS

1. Traffic lights are always red when you're in a hurry or late.

2. Ashley Judd makes the same movie over and over again.

3. The big fat tall piece of shit with the ten gallon cowboy hat, newborn baby, crackle-crackle candy wrappers, and 5 ringing cell-phones who took the seat right in front of you at the movies did it on purpose just to annoy you.

4. New shoes are magnets for dogshit, chewing gum, etc...

5. There's never a cop around if you need one. But if you are 5 mph over the limit, or just driving around at night looking suspicious, they're always there to pull you over.

6. Everytime you think of something cool to write, you'll have forgotten what it was by the time you get a chance to actually write it.

7. There is a special place in hell for the type of person who always leaves only a thimble full of milk in the carton, one slice of bread in the package, or a couple of chips and some crumbs in the bag.

8. Tobacco bad. Weed good.

9. Girlfriends will make you stupid, but happy.

10. SuperPisser is right about everything.

Bonus truth!

Morning breath is caused by gremlins who crawl in your mouth and masturbate while you sleep.

That is all for now. Use it wisely my friends.

Saturday I set a new personal best!

2005-11-29T21:05:00.000-08:00

What was it?

I'll never tell...

Because I'm a rotten bastard from rottencity.com.

But it has to do with the number 8.

---

Anyway, I was sitting home sunday, just watching some football and I start to smell smoke. Now, I know I'm smoking hot and all, but this was a different smell entirely, and with me being super paranoid about fire and being burned alive, naturally, this got my attention.

So sniff, sniff, sniff, went my super detecto zombie nose, and I decided that the smell was burning grass, leaves, or wood. It was something natural rather than the plasticy, chemical smell of man made products, so I was a little relieved and figured maybe my house wasn't burning.

After getting up, investigating, and giving it the all clear, I figured maybe someone was burning something outside. This pissed me off big time because we haven't gotten any rain in a long time, (10 inches below normal I think) and it's dry as a fucking bone outside. Add in the fact that the wind was blowing like a $2 whore, (wink wink) at speeds of 60 mph all damn day, and you have a pretty serious fucking fire hazard.

So I put on my idiot stomping boots and went outside to see what dumbasses needed the fuck beat out of them on account of being such shitwits for burning things on a day like this.

I was surprised to find that no one was burning anything. This confused me a little, as I could smell smoke very strongly. I just couldn't see any. It was kind of cloudy and hazy, but still, the smell was strong, and it bugged me that I didn't know where it was coming from.

A short time later, I caught a news alert that was talking about major grass fires popping up all over the place. Roads were being shut down. People were being evacuated.

Shit! I thought. This isn't good. And it's fairly close too, or I wouldn't be able to smell it.

As the news reports got more info, I found out the main fire was about 10 miles away from me, which is kind of scary since the wind was blowing so hard and it was so dry, but luckily for me, I live by a lake, and all the burning was going on on the other side.

So I was safe.

The fires have been out since Monday I think. I wish I had a decent camera so I could take some pictures.

Anyway, hats off to the firemen and volunteers. I can only imagine how fucking hard it was to fight a fire in those conditions.

Catch y'all later!

Happy Thanksgiving Motherfuckers

2005-11-23T19:26:00.000-08:00

Hey y'all.

I never much cared for thanksgiving growing up. I didn't get presents like on my birthday and Christmas. I didn't get to wear a scary costume like Halloween. So I was pretty indifferent when it came to big Turkey Thursday.

Yeah, I hear you, you're saying, but what about the food?

What about it? It never mattered much to me. I've always been kind of a picky eater, and covered dish style dinners where I didn't know what came from who, (whom?) or where it came from always kind of bothered me. So I've never been one to pig out on the holiday, which kind of sucks because most seem to enjoy doing just that.

But lately I've been thinking, which usually results in a brain numbing headache. I really don't know what the fuck is the matter with me, because most of the time I'm not one to just sit around and reflect on things, but it has just been on my mind that I've got a lot to be thankful for, not just this year, but my whole stupid life.

Sure, it has been far from perfect, and pretty damn ugly at times. There's a lot of things I wish were different, and a lot of things I'd most certainly change. The main thing though, is that I've got it pretty good. I've got my health, people I care about, food on the table, a roof over my head, and a helluva big fucking wang-a-saurus rex that just has to be seen to believed.

So I think I kind of get what this holiday is about now, or what it's supposed to be about, and I am thankful for all the great things, both old and new in my life.

And just so you don't think I've gone all fucking soft, or worse yet, started to grow up, here's a picture of a big giant ass for no reason what-so-ever.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Sanford and Son and Sex

2005-11-22T22:55:00.000-08:00

Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's a pretty weird title, even for me, but I can explain.

No, I probably won't make you understand, or think me any less a weirdo from planet weird, but that's ok. Because I'm too cool to care baby! Too cool to care.

A few of you might have known that I took a little road trip the last few days with my cool girl, (as long as she's not jealous and pissed off) the knob goblin. The point of the trip wasn't to actually get anywhere so much as it was to just get away, and in that it was pretty successful and fun. We stayed in a couple of different hotels, one being a cheap, out of the way, Norman Bates type place where we registered under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Harry Bush, and the other a bigger, better place with a heated pool, hot tub, and gym.

Both places also had cable, which brings me back to the Sanford and Son thing.

Let me just state here and now that I think Sanford and Son is brilliant, and that Red Foxx was a god among men. I always enjoyed the hell out of that show and still do. But the icing on the proverbial cake of cool, is the show's ultra funky, owns you fucking all, theme music. It's quite possibly the best tv theme ever, and anytime I hear it, I just go fucking insane with happiness.

I have given much thought as to why I enjoy the theme music so much, and have come to some conclusions, some of which are that the music is funky and upbeat, kind of funny, and creates nostalgia for fun memories of growing up. These thoughts may be all partly true, hell I know they are, but after careful consideration and deliberation I discovered why I really love the music so fucking much.

This is why...

The Sanford and Son Theme Song sounds like the ultimate old school porn music.

Think about it.

Watch the show.

Listen and try to tell me I'm wrong people, because you can't. Just can't do it. No way, no how.

So anyway, it was Saturday night, we'd had a fun day of running around, seeing some sights, and just being free to do whatever we wanted. I had been flipping around on the channels and saw that Sanford and Son was coming up soon, so a nasty little plan began to germinate inside the wicked gray matter of my cold and slushy brain.

The plan was simple.

All I had to do was fuck my girl while the glorious, porn-o-riffic S and S theme song played loudly in the background. This was my dream, my quest, my moment for glory. Would I be able to time it right? Would I be able to perform under this kind of pressure? Would the show be pre-empted for some local horseshit news story? Would there be a power outage?

I clenched my fists tightly with nervousness. My heart rate increased. I began to crave cigarettes, black tar heroin, and quaaludes, yet I do not do any of those things.

At long last, the time was at hand, and like the ultra smooth riverboat gambler that I am, I made my play. The goblin was on her hands and knees, I was behind her, arms raised triumphant like Rocky (except with a much bigger schlong), humping and bumping.

The music began to play.

And I was happy.

I was thrilled.

For this is the stuff that dreams are made of.

I've made it world. I've made it.

Epilogue...

A day after we got back, I downloaded and burned the S and S mp3 to a cd and had it sent to her, along with some roses. The note I place inside said two words...

"Poonami Wasabi"

Attention FOX network! I spit on thee! I piss on thee! I SHIT on thee!

2005-11-16T21:33:00.000-08:00

You dirty cum burping bags of puss. I have insider sources that have informed me that you have cancelled my favorite show.

Are you fucking retarded FOX? This show is the great. It's smart. It's funny. It fucking rocks! You wonder why no one watches? Well pull your head out of your ass and maybe you could figure it out twatwaffle. You moved it around. You took it off for ballgames. You took it off to promote your stupid cunting pet projects like "Stacked", starring that ugly manbeast in drag, Sam Anderson.

God do I hate that ugly shitstain.

So is it any wonder that the ratings have never been good? Up yours FOX! You are a pukestain on the toilet rim of the universe, and deserve nothing but comtempt. I strike at you with my poison pen, and one day I promise to personally kick everyone of you stupid fuckers in the piss flaps.

On behalf of all people with taste, I say "FUCK YOU, STRADDLE A BROKEN BEER BOTTLE, and LICK MY NUTS!"

So long my beloved Bluths.

At least I'll have the DVD's.

Oh, and since I'm saying goodbye to all things great, so long Paolo family, it was fun!

And one last thing. GET WELL SICK GIRL! You know I don't like it when you feel bad. Don't make me come up there and feed you soup!

My ass is hotter than yours.

2005-11-14T15:34:00.000-08:00

Hey, I know it's been awhile, and I'm sorry about that. Really, what I do here isn't that important in the grand scheme of things, but I do miss reading the things you all write and shooting the shit with you.

I'm hoping to get some time and visit your sites this week, and hopefully start making some fresh new posts again.

Might even throw a new weird question your way.

Oooooooooh.

Anyway, I'm ok. Just really busy. The last few months haven't been quite how I planned, but that's life.

Later on.