You know how I spend endless hours on the internet, searching for things to fill your life with joy? (Yes you! You’re my favorite, doncha know? I just had your name tattooed on my inner right thigh.) Well, I haven’t had much downtime in front of my computer, so I had to scour the in-flight magazines instead.
I learned a few things in the process. For example, it’s harder to find porn in a seat-back pocket on an airplane than it is online…but not much. Also, if something isn’t available in leopard print, it probably isn’t worth owning. Lastly, based on the selections pictured in my copy of SkyMall, I have to assume our societ is completely obsessed with male pattern baldness, sleep, and where and how our house pets do their business.
I wanted to find something special for you though, my sweet. You know I always feel bad when I leave on a trip then return without a little something to show I’ve been thinking of you. Sadly it was slim pickings. I mean, telekenitic obstacle courses and underwater light show cubes for your pool are so 2009. I really had to scour to find something I hadn’t seen before.
Then I found it, nestled at the bottom of page eighty.
So of course I giggled and ripped out the page so I could share his creepitude with you. But later that night, still distended from a ridiculously rich meal and anxious about the next day’s event, this little fucker clawed his way into my dreams. But no, he was no normal zombie – he was the Saint Joe figurine I’d buried In a flower pot by the door to my building…and he was PISSED.
After stewing upside down for over a month, listening to drunken Wall Street types and screeching bus brakes, my tiny holy real estate agent had snapped. His halo was off-kilter and caked with dried blood. Chunks of brain and gore dripped from his (also beautifully placed) teeth. And he wanted revenge…in the face.
Sure I managed to defeat him with an inflatable penguin, a brillo pad, and a little help from the cast of Scrubs, but that was just a dream. Now I’m just plain afraid to go home. Obviously Zombie St. Joe is plotting with Mitzi to collect and eat my (deep fried) brains the second I get back to Hoboken. Did I mention I don’t HAVE any brillo pads? Death is imminent. In the face. I may just have to hide out here in Atlanta indefinitely.
I am not really sure but this zombie…reminds me of a mariachi singer…with blood. Or salsa. Very, Very hot salsa. In is face.
Oh crap, In HIS face.
P.S. I just threw away my copy of SkyMall that I took from south west, which I probably took becuause of that THING!!!
But South West knows how to comfort. http://twitpic.com/1zaoqt
Now THAT is my kind of airline.
Maybe I will just hide out here all day instead of working. Do you have any wine?
I have cough syrup with codeine. Does that count?
I was going to leave a comment about how creepy your zombie St. Joe is but then I saw Vapid Blonde left you four comments. Who seems creepier now, huh? Who’s creepier now?
I’m pretty sure PHubby is still winning. 🙂
Note to self:
never bury catholic chotchky upside down in yard and leave there. They come to life in dreams and perhaps reality just like that pet cemetary case scenario you always feared.
Remember Gage the zombie baby? Yeah, well I do.
I don’t watch horror movies but I hit the google and now I want to stab my eyes out after perusing this lovely page:
With any luck, Zombie St. Joe will eat Rocco’s brains while you’re still out of town.
He does seem a little vacant today…
which chunk is the brain and which is the gore? just curious.
also, i don’t think you have anything to worry about. mitzi works alone. she’ll eat zombie st joe in the face.
Did you just call Tipper a brain? Christ I need a nap. Hold me.
I WANT IT !! This would be freaking awesome and I would so place it right in my front flower garden. Oh yes, I would.
You have to plant some of those brain shrooms around it.
Nah, Atlanta is too hot to die in. But then again you are missing a mini heat wave here– not to worry… St. Joe likes the heat. And I bet whereevs you are you’re in central air… Maybe I’ll hang with Vapid here a while.
I think the central air is what got me sick. That or licking the floor in the Vortex bathroom. One of those two things.
My in-laws are freaky about Catholicism and paid a lot of money for some “holy relics.” We call ’em the Saint’s Bones. I’m pretty sure they get up and creep around the house at night.
Holy crap beta dad, anyone with real human remains wins hands down.
That is the kind of shit that writes a screen play.
Innocent couple on holiday sees a darling little souvenir shop with “fun” vodoo dolls and “darling” bones from some unpopular saint.
Turns out the bones are in fact that of a cursed heretic who had his sainthood revoked so his mission in death is to destroy ALL who come in contact with his remains.
Cue screaming in laws, exploding cars, locusts and a big final fight scene where your mother in law uses a machete and some holy water to save the world.
I second Kelly’s “Holy crap beta dad.” You guys have me so scared of catholics I’m genuinely considering digging up St Joe and melting him in my oven.
LOL @ your description of the SkyMall! I have to share it with husband the road warrior.
I will mail you a Brillo pad soon. In your face!
Phew! Until then I’ll have to hold him off with hairspray and a lighter.
Ok. You are really getting them: I put this (Steel Wool Soap Pad, 10/box) in my Amazon shopping cart. Husb just ordered something else and hit “ORDER” so we are receiving the Steel Wool too. LOL
You are SO ready for Zombie Apocalypse now!
Oh, forgot my manners. Thank you m’dear for the somethin’ somethin’. Kisses. In your face!
The scary part is the people who would buy this with serious intentions.
I bought three myself. Just for kicks.
I need that zombie dude right now. My dad’s birthday party is tomorrow and I didn’t know what to get him… until now! He loves zombie movies, and is in the middle of a remodel. This is perfect. But I’ll tell him it was your idea, k?
Always glad to help! Dads and zombies go together like orange juice and mayonnaise.
Sky Mall stinks. Would it hurt so much for the airlines to put something a little more interesting in there? They need more zombie pages. Did Vapid Blonde drink all the wine? I could drink a little. In my face. I mean your face.
She usually does…
That is so creepy and yet- I would love to put it in my bed and then hide and wait for my husband to come home….
Zombie concrete threesomes…I’m pretty sure there’s a niche market for that video tape.
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