Tomorrow has become our yesterday.

Endless, nameless, dreams, delusions.

Nightmares, laughter, sweat, confusion.



Go away.

Just...

Go...

AWAY........

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!

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.

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.

Ain't it a bitch?

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

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!

click to rebigulate

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

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!