Jogging With a Spoon - 3
featuring The Weekly Zombie Report


I went into the office of an allegedly important person. Well, that person was not there, so I thought I would take a second and look around at the pictures on said person’s bookshelf. I saw many pictures of a young girl of about 19, if she was a day. Fair enough... then I started to LOOK at the pictures. There was also this dude, with whom (I hope) was his mid life crisis wife. Just the look in their eyes when they were next to each other made me uncomfortable. And I was looking at a GODDAMN PICTURE.  I know some shit happens in S.C. that makes chromosomes bump together, but goddamn... Ok, these other pictures were of a girl laying on her stomach in a bikini, of her standing next to this significantly older man like she was a stripper, and one of her where we can see the camel toe in her painted-on jeans. There must have been 20 more of similar pictures. Daughter or wife? I haven’t been able to look at this dude since. Both prospects ick me the fuck out.

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I just don’t fucking get it. Perhaps that cat just doesn’t realize that his daughter is a whore. I would hope so. Speaking of whores… I was caught in traffic, going somewhere (it’s unimportant WHERE), and I saw a cop and thought, “Just watch there be a parade”. Sure as shit, there it was. It must have been the entire fucking high school, marching really crappy like. Anyway, there came the Homecoming nominees, riding on top of these nice cars. I spot two and think nothing of it, they looked like children, but they kept staring at me. So, of course, I stare right fucking back, leering at them now like I am Blackie fucking Lawless. Anyway, their boyfriends inside the car turn around and start to stare, eyeballing me... ME. Well, I guess my glare of steel got to them, because as their heads were turned back front, they ran off the road. They didn’t hit anything, but I would have laughed even harder if they had. I lit a cig and congratulated myself.

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I went to a different Ryan’s for dinner with The Lady Raine, and I overhear some old person saying that the last time they ate here they got the shits. MOTHERFUCK!  I think to myself, as I am trying to get some bourbon chicken on my plate. I figure it was probably an aged version of me, because I like to tell people stuff like that too. I once told an attendant at a gas station that someone dropped a duce in the sink in their restroom. I did not tell them that it was me, because someone had already dropped one in the toilet and plugged it. Damn I had to go. I took that chance once... it is something we don’t talk about.

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I was going to see Celtic Frost this weekend, but they cancelled. I was planning on buying tickets when I got there, hoping they would not sell out before hand, so I guess I was lucky in a way. Apparently their legions of fans had the same idea that I had. That means I am dressing up for this Halloween!  I am going to go to all the clubs with costume contests, dressed like a Black Metal Golfer. MEIN PAR IST KREIG! 

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ALL WE ARE  ALL WE ARE, WE ARE  WE ARE ALL, ALL WE NEED! (Five bucks if you know that lyric.)

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This Week’s Zombie Report

Flu season is starting, and this is good news for those in the know, like I am. See, Zombies cannot stand the cold. They freeze right in place. You must remember, they are dead, so their coagulated blood freezes them. This does not make you safe, however. First off, you must be in the snow line.

Everything in white is safe during the winter months, but only AFTER it has been freezing for about a week. That would be a good time to gather supplies for an infestation. ALWAYS be PREPARED and do NOT rely on weather. NEVER! It’s also important that you never get a flu shot. All it will do is get you sick. Those fucking scientists are getting you sick, when chances are you might not even get the damn flu anyway.

Remember, if World War Z (out now) breaks out, will you be getting a flu shot then? I don’t think so, so prepare now, and get your immune system prepared and strong. Eat lots of fruits (nature’s candy) and vegetables (nature’s dookie), and be ready  


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Carman out.




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