The longest and funniest zombie discussion ever

I'm reaching back into the archives again. Here is a crazy conversation that occurred Aug. 8, 2006 between my husband Phil Porter (comedian extraordinaire) and my goofy bosom chum, Amanda. Keep reading, as it just becomes one hilarious punchline after another. They are far too entertaining. They are, indeed, too sexy for IM.

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Sarah: I'm going to take a shower. Here's Phil if you need him.

Phil: Um, I'm not sure I'd be comfortable chatting with Amanda's corpse.

Amanda: Oh, it's okay. Just ignore my tongue hanging out of the side of my mouth and the foam coming from it.

Phil: Wait, are you the living dead?

Phil: Because I'm not going to let you eat my brain.

Amanda: The post-death flatulence stage has already passed, now I'm just convulsing.

Amanda: I don't eat smart brains. I prey on stupid people from MySpace. Why do you think I'm seeking out my old high school classmates?

Phil: I didn't realize zombies were so picky.

P: I thought it was just, "Brains! Brains! Brains!"

A: Smart brains are not tender and mushy like dumb brains. They're rough from over-use and tend to be bitter.

P: That makes sense.

P: In fact, it kind of makes too much sense.

P: Like you've thought about it before.

A: It really does. How do you think I figured out how smart brains taste? I ate some before, and now everything makes sense, but I have a bad taste in my mouth.

P: Did you stir fry it with some garlic?

P: Because garlic is delicious, but it certainly has a negative affect on your breath quality.

A: No, see. My brain is dumb, which is why the zombie who ate my brain chose me, of course. I didn't think of it.

P: Sadly enough, that makes perfect sense.

P: On that topic, have you seen "Sean of the Dead"? It's a very funny zombie movie.

A: I definitely don't want bad breath. I might scare people away, since just being a zombie trying to eat their brains won't do it.

A: No, I haven't.

P: I have a theory that if we ever did get into a Night of the Living Dead zombie type situation,

P: that would definitely erase our credit records.

P: Pretty much my biggest hope for financial security is some sort of flesh-eating humans.

A: Um, yeah. I think there's a clause in Fico or somewhere that your credit score resets if you're eaten by a zombie.

A: But it has to be on a Sunday after midnight pacific time.

P: Or an alien attack. That should do it, too.

P: So my entire future is based on either the Earth being attacked by UFOs

P: or people mutating into zombies.

A: What if the alien stole your credit card and went on a shopping spree?

P: I think the odds are on my side.

P: Damn those aliens!

P: I'm pretty sure in that case, I'm only responsible for like $50 of their charges, though.

A: Oh, then that makes it better.

P: Well, except that they charged the ingredients for their evil death ray on my card.

P: That would weigh heavily on my conscience.

A: But what if that was the $50 they spent to buy explosives and blow up the planet?

A: yeah, exactly.

P: But if they tried to buy their explosives and the card was rejected because there wasn't enough credit available.

P: I'd be the hero then.

A: And the president has been secretly viewing your credit charge history to see if you're a terrorist spy. A death ray charge would look suspicious. It's a good thing you had the foresight to spend unwisely all of these years. Your bad credit decisions have saved you from jail time.

P: Well, that's what I tell the government.

P: And the people who keep calling trying to get money.

A: "I'm just screwing up my own credit before someone else does!"

P: And the president, of course.

P: That's pretty clever, actually.

P: It's a pre-emptive strike against identity theft people.

A: lol

A: You could just pretend to be an identity thief when the bill collectors call.

P: I do try to talk with a Nigerian accent.

A: Hey, this is Bill. I stole Phil's identity to buy an Xbox and some beer. I gave it back to him now, but I'd like for you to relieve him of all liability for those charges.

P: Yeah, except I'd have to call myself Dr. Ngimbi or something.

A: Hey, this is Zortak from the planet Mentos. I bought butt plugs and a laser gun on Phil's account. If you don't release his obligation to pay these debts, I'll probe you.

P: Hang on, I need to go charge a bunch of crap I don't really need. For the sake of humanity.

P: I wonder what channel QVC is here.

P: Maybe I could get some Ron Popeil shit.

P: I could save the world by fighting off the aliens with the Salad Shooter.

A: Hi, this is Dr. Ngimbi from the pygmy tribe of clicky-clicky-click Africa. You may remember me from the 3rd edition flash cards set. I stole Phil's identity to sneak my way into your country illegally using his bank account and life savings.

A: HAHA, salad shooter.

P: LOL.

A: You know how those martians are afraid of vegetables.

P: Oh, yeah, Martians hate greens.

P: I think they like fried foods, though, but who doesn't?

P: I could burn the aliens with a George Foreman grill.

A: Take brussels sprouts, you lard-ridden alien!

A: *whoosh*

P: Eat broccoli, bastard!

A: Why don't you probe yourself with this asparagus, you disgusting pervert!

P: Hey, wait, why would someone from the planet Mentos be buying butt plugs?

P: That seems a bit unlikely.

A: Well, they want to drink Pepsi, but they want the explosion to shoot from their nostrils, not their asses.

A: It will be their secret weapon to take over our planet.

A: I just read your George Foreman comment, ahaha.

A: That would be pretty convenient. You could cook them on both sides without having to flip them. Genius.

P: Especially if the aliens are sort of gelatinous rather than bipedal or whatnot.

P: A gelatinous alien wouldn't last for more than a minute in the Foreman grill.

P: Although a hamburger turns out deliciously!

P: Actually, I've never eaten any Foreman Food, so I'm just guessing.

A: Well, maybe they will be mutant cows from Mars.

P: Wow, how weird would that be!

P: Although cows are kind of cute in their own way, so maybe that would be a nice way to be invaded.

P: A bunch of Martian cows standing in a field grazing wouldn't be all that horrifying.

A: I saw a cow shitting in a field when I was riding the bus once. It was the grossest thing ever. And we were travelling like 2 mph because it was a dirt road.

P: My uncle had a dairy farm, so I've been very close to shitting cows.

P: You kind of get used to it after a while.

A: What kind of life did you live? Poor thing. You're eating Cocoa Puffs, you look outside to see the beautiful day... "Oh, look! A rainbow. A shitting bow. Two dogs humping. A dead bird. Ah, nothing exciting."

A: A shitting bow?

A: lmao!

P: Shitting Bow was a famous native American warrior.

A: That would be a nice decoration for a gag gift.

A: HAHAHA.

A: Yeah, he flung shit at the enemies.

P: Thanks for the new plates. I especially enjoyed them being wrapped in a shitting bow.

P: You're thinking of the famous Chinese warrior: Hu Flung Poo.

A: "Haha, white man! Here is some shit from my papoose's deer-skinned diaper!"

A: HAHAHA Hu Flung Poo.

A: Hu flung poo. I don't know, who flung poo? No, Hu did!

P: Oh, yes, Hu definitely flung poo.

P: Also, my parents never bought us Cocoa Puffs.

A: I just cried a little from my laughter.

P: Somehow they thought letting us spend the summer scooping up cow pies was better.

P: Not for breakfast, though.

P: I hope I didn't give the wrong impression.

A: hahaha.

A: Well, you wouldn't fully appreciate the milk for your cereal until you scooped up the feces from the animal who provided you with that milk.

A: I hope you weren't breastfeed.

A: -d

A: or e.

P: Would you prefer that I had suckled at the teat of a cow?

P: Sort of like Romulus and Reamus, but with a cow instead of a wolf.

P: And I didn't found Rome.

A: Well, unless you want to scoop up your mother's poo also, sure.

P: See, now that's just icky.

A: exactly.

A: I'm just going on your parents' child-rearing philosophy.

P: Although I guess if my mother was crapping in the barn, I would have cleaned up after her.

A: You said it. I didn't.

A: haha, maybe.

P: OK, so here's how you imagine my life:

P: I was raised on the teat of a cow.

P: My mother crapped in a barn, and I had to clean it up.

P: We were constantly fighting off alien and/or zombie attacks.

A: The same cow who was shitting in the field later, which is why it didn't bother you.

P: I've seen cows shit while they were being milked.

P: It's never safe to be around a cow's ass. That's my point.

A: Well, who's ass is it safe to be around, really?

A: whose, too.

P: Yeah, good point.

P: So stay away from zombies, aliens, and asses.

A: If I had the choice of an ass to stand behind, it would be the alien wearing the butt plug.

P: Wow, you've really planned ahead!

A: Well, you never know when you might find yourself in that situation.

A: A line of creatures, asses all facing you, holding hands like you're playing Red Rover. Only you have to choose which ass you have to run toward...

A: Your mother's, a cow's, an alien's, or a zombie's.

P: I'd pick the zombies.

P: I think brains would cause constipation.

A: Yeah, that might work. They took their last shit at death.

P: It also might be difficult to identify exactly which part of the alien is the ass.

A: Of course, their rotting ass flesh could be revolting.

P: Rotting ass flesh, you say.

A: I could pick my mother, though. I've smelled her farts for a lifetime, and they never killed me.

A: She did have her gall bladder removed, though. Hmm.

P: Lacking in gall does not necessarily mean lacking in stink.

P: Although she might not have the gall to fart in public.

A: No, on the contrary. It makes the stink worse.

A: Now, when she farts, it's like it had less time to warn her of its arrival, so she acts surprised.

A: I guess the gall bladder is a sensory organ.

A: "Hey, you're going to fart in 3.2 seconds. Prepare the sphincter!"

A: did I misspell that?

P: No, "that" is how "that" is spelled.

P: You were also correct on sphincter.

A: Whoa, thanks.

P: When in doubt, I recommend www.m-w.com.

A: My rotting zombie brain is lacking in spelling skills.

P: It's the dictionary!

A: Yeah, I try that. But I always forget the website address. Is it m-q.com? m-f.com? shit!

P: As a zombie, the odds of getting into a spelling bee are very slim, so that part of the brain tends to shut down.

P: m-f.com can only tell you how to spell dirty words.

A: I could eat the brains of the other contestants.

A: But that might disqualify me.

P: But it would let you absorb their spellng knowledge.

A: HAHAHA.

P: Sarah just came out of the shower.

P: She wants to know why you didn't go to bed yet.

A: spellng, that sucks.

A: Because Phil won't let me eat his brain.

P: Oh, well, Sarah says you should go to bed.

P: It would be too expensive for me to overnight my brain to Texas for you.

P: And three-day delivery would not maintain the freshness you desire.

A: She must have read our conversation, then. I do need sleep.

P: OK. You shuffle off to slumberland then.

A: Well, try not to use it much for now. I'll try to make a special trip to get it later on.

P: OK. I won't think too much this weekend.

A: I think Sarah is trying to get rid of me. I'm okay with that.

P: Actually, she's planning how to eat your brain.

A: I don't know that eating an already-dead zombie brain would be very good.

P: Except for creating new zombies maybe.

P: All right, well I'll let you shamble off to bed now.

A: is it just me, or does Sarah's picture on Yahoo look fuzzy?

P: It's just you. You've been huffing too much paint.

P: I'm going to sign off now so you can go to bed.

P: I think we're going to eat some brains then retire for the evening also.

A: alrighty.

P: G-night.

A: thanks for entertaining me, g-night!