The Zombie Zoo – Zombie Typing

ME

I really need to start watching what I’m saying. I made one little mention of how hard typing these things was for rotted fingers in an editorial piece and now those high and mighty men in black want to see a piece on how exactly that works. Personally I think it was the “typing like Michael J. Fox” joke that really pissed them off, thinking it might have been a little too soon for them. If that were it I could probably let it go, but the other day at the office I made a mention around one of them about how I could take bullet after bullet and still keep walking as long as no shot was to the head. Well, being a little dumber than I thought I was I never considered that a crazy psychopath (I won’t even mention the things this person has done) would carry a gun, a gun that a person missing just a few screws might be tempted to use on someone who wouldn’t keel over from it. Thanks random government flunky number 4, I’m still trying to find a new suit that matched the old one, but back to the problem at hand… How exactly do you expect me to write a nice sized editorial on how hard it is to write these? Have you seriously lost your mind? Are you sniffing something I should know about? Is there a reason you seem to think I’m superhuman and not just a still talking dead guy? Oh, and more importantly, did you get that video from Spanky’s…no rush or anything, I just haven’t been able to see my girl in a while and, you know, even zombies have needs.

Yes, it’s me once again, back this time to discuss, in case you skipped a section, the difficulties in typing with hands that move worse than those of Angela Lansbury post Murder She Wrote. It’s not an easy thing for sure; it’s actually pretty damn difficult to type these things out. The really difficult thing is getting my fingers to work right. Anyone reading this who doesn’t know what rigor mortis means? Son of a bitch, are you serious, you really don’t know what it means? Fine, basically when you die your body becomes very stiff and while we undead may be still functional, our bodies are very, very stiff (no dirty thoughts, get your minds out of the gutter) and it’s hard to do even the simplest of tasks sometimes (this is why most zombies can’t stand the idea of fast zombies…we only wish); even things as simple as putting on deodorant in the morning is difficult, and that brings up another issue. Why aren’t you deodorant companies paying more attention to us undead, we’re one of the largest purchasers of your products and we get no say? Where’s the zombie specific deodorant? Where is the hiding rot deodorant? Nowhere, and why, because even though zombies spend billions of dollars a year on deodorant products they still don’t get a demographic because of their status as being undead. Just because we’re dead doesn’t mean we want to smell bad. A. Luring victims is going to be a little difficult when you smell like a dog’s asshole and B. who the hell wants to smell bad in the first place. Yeah, we’re dead but we still have to purchase your products asshole, and this goes for a lot of things too. I don’t want my apartment to look lame either, so go fuck yourself Ikea and you’re stupid credit applications you turn down just because I’m “legally dead”, or Targets no shoes, no shirt, no pulse, no service policy. My money is as good as the living’s is and you know it’s backed up because fleeing the country is something a little more difficult for me, so I’m not going anywhere. You know what, you can all go fuck yourselves and your refusal to take my money. I work hard robbing that cash from the people I eat so just take a…calm yourself, calm yourself…okay, I’m alright. Let’s just move on now, shall we?

Typing is really hard when you’re dead. There, are we done yet? No? How can we not be done, that’s all I really have to say? I can tell you about that time grandma caught her…no, actually I don’t think I can tell that story. What else do you want me to say? Alright, I guess I can go into detail if it’s really that important to you…and if it will save me the pain of taping my limbs back together after dealing with a pissed off government employee that should be fired but whom I can’t name (her name is *****). Ha, now you’re going to get it.

It’s not impossible by a long shot but it is really hard, and I’m actually lucky because I still have all the skin on my fingers (I only turned thanks to a small bite on my ass…don’t ask). Don’t laugh, not all zombies are as lucky, some only have boney extensions where their fingers used to be, little protrusions of white pointy skeleton. I don’t imagine they could type at all without the risk of destroying their computer, that’s why most of those types only use computers for porn. I guess I should really consider myself lucky because I haven’t rotted all that much, I mean, put a coat of makeup on me and I look absolutely normal. Still, it’s kind of a pain in the ass to have to chicken type by slowly hitting one key at a time (can anyone yet see why I hate the men in black for this). It takes forever and it really isn’t fun. If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve seen so many horror movies that were terrible, movies I would love to save others from having to watch, I don’t think I would even bother with this jazz.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure that’s about all I can really say on this subject so I think I’m going to have to say that’s it folks. Are you serious unnamed government asshole (remember the name is *****)? I don’t know what else to put down. Typing is a hard thing to do for the undead, end of story. You know what, fine, go ahead and chop off my hands, I really don’t care at this point. I’ll just have them reattached anyway. I am fully done with this subject. (No worries folks, as long as I bring the men in black the cleaned skulls and the one unnamed employee the cleaned femurs, chick’s got a thing for femurs, I’ll make it to the next Zombie Zoo)

Until next time, this is you unfriendly neighborhood zombie signing out.

About The Undead Review

When I was alive I was an asshole and after I died remained pretty much the same, if not a little worse. You’d think becoming a member of the walking dead would mellow a person out, no more worrying about awkward small talk with people, no more having to be politically correct, and the entire world is your upright, bipedal buffet. Don’t get me wrong, it’s fun as hell to be a zombie, just somewhat irritating at times, especially those times you have to watch a lame movie or read a lame book. Thankfully, when I am forced to watch these films or read those books, I’ve got places like The Undead Review to bitch and moan to my heart’s content. {When he’s not devouring the living or sinking his teeth into a good film The Undead Review (Andy Taylor) spends his time writing his own stories or hunting down the paranormal. Oh, and did we mention his blind dog once saved the world?)
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