Rumble, Groan, Itch

Huh?

Whuzzat?

Sleeping? Yeah, I suppose so, but you have to understand that Spring is not really the best of seasons for the undead. It's a time for life to renew- not for death to renew. The ground is moist and full of worms- which tend to eat the delicate flesh of you-know-who.

So Spring is the time of year when the walking dead slumber, safe in their luxurious condos down in South Beach, waiting for the smell of tanned, wrinkled flesh to appear. You'd be amazed at how easy it is for the unliving to blend in down here. And I get to practice my New York accent.

Fuhgeddaboudit!

Time to Raise the Dead

I don't get out much... online that is. I get out plenty in the real world- because brains don't come to you, you need to go to them!

I digress.

Occasionally I like to fire up up the old magic box and take a stroll down the information walkway. I'll peek in here, read a little there, but very rarely do I make an appearance anywhere else online. I kind of have a mystique to keep up, you know? If kids thought that old Santa was a guy you see everyday there sure would be a few less offerings of milk n' cookies laid down at the hearths of hopeful homes holding out for holiday happiness.

I don't generally care for the cookies, but the milk often attracts a delicious cat or two for the taking. Cat's brains, while not filling, can be delightfully appetizing when you are in a hurry.

But where am I going with this diatribe? One of the sites that I used to visit has contracted a terminal case of apathy. No posts, and comments that are languishing in moderation. For shame! What we need is a good old fashioned raising of the dead. A voodoo hootenanny, where we roll the old bones out and make 'em dance with supernatural fervor.

I can't do it alone. I beg you to visit this site. Leave a comment imploring the author to post again. To wake from his slumber. Do it for me. Do it for the children. Do it for the creeping undead flesh of blogs that fall by the wayside every day!

RAISE ME FROM THE DEAD!

EDIT: It worked! He lives!

All work and no play...

I'm sure you assume that my rotund shape is due to the fact that I only work 1 day out of the year.

Most people assume that I spend 364 days out of the year sitting on my kiester watching the workers in my elf sweatshop to produce entertainment goods for spoiled children that have managed to convince themselves that they were good. (Despite all of the horrible things that they have done, and all of the lies that they told to those that they loved these children still thought of themselves as worthy of some kind of gift to celebrate their "goodness". I digress.)

I have a softer side. From earlier post, you see I like to read and engage in playful games in a simulation of the inevitable undead apocalypse. Little did you know that I also have a penchant for the licensed TV drama spinoff re-imagining themed boardgame. Come into the drawing room and sit for a while, as I regale you with stories of light-hearted playfulness in the world of a mini-series/soap opera.

Truly, this is a bonding experience- the game is co-operative! Each player is one member of a group working to help humanity escape the clutches of a brutal group of evil robots (that they created to be helpers! such bad robots!) and find your long lost brethren. You're all working together to help reunite family!

Unless one or more of you are actually evil robots in disguise.

This game is built on paranoia, fear and deception. Add in the frequent result of all of mankind's extinction and you have yourself an absolute lock for best family game of the decade. Don't like the fact that your dad is always telling you to how to play? Convince your mother and sister that dad purposely played his turn poorly, or is so inept that he was lucky to have reproduced, and so he must be a Cylon . Throw him in the brig and strip him of his presidency so that you can take the title and help win the game for the humans!

You may get grounded, but when Dad sees you announce that you are, in actuality, a Cylon and then proceed to dash the hopes of the humans you will know that true joy that comes with the crushing defeat of others. Your father will hopefully see that he managed to defy genetics to produce one of the finest minds of your generation. Nah, the guy totally misplayed that nuke when he was Admiral- what a loser.

Think of the Children

Greetings, kiddies! You've probably lost interest in all of the wonderful toys that I delivered about a month ago (I know when you've been bad and good, as well as when you are ungrateful) and are looking for something fun to do. If you are a child that is anything other than a sniveling momma's boy, that fun most likely involves something that can be considered dangerous to either your physical or mental health. You precious little snowflake, you.

Why does this interest good ol' Zombie Santa?

Because of your natural curiosity, well intentioned adults will be swayed into making very poor decisions by those who act in the name of "the children."

• A ban on fatty foods? Sure, it's for the good of the children who can't help but stuff their faces with snacks.
• Want to play with a Jart? Can't have that, since someone might get impaled. We can't expect children to play safely. Too bad, sucker!
• Feel like reading a good book? Sorry, it has language that might damage our dainty flower's mind and make them act violently, promiscuously, or question authority. Tsk, tsk.
• Video games? VIDEO GAMES?!? Don't talk to me about video games!!!

Let me lay out some common sense from beyond the grave:

Life is hard. It isn't fair. And sometimes, you get hurt.

This is a good thing. Failure is the greatest teacher that you will ever have. If you try and hide from it, you will only prolong the inevitable and increase the calamity that you are trying to avoid. Sheltering your darling little child from the real world will ensure only one thing- that your child will be a malformed adult that is incapable of dealing with the real world. That's what childhood is supposed to be about- it is training for adulthood.

So open up, world! The best thing that you can do as a parent is to take responsibility for raising your child and helping that child become a functional, productive adult. You are the resource to help that child understand why you feel certain things are right and others are wrong. If you pretend that bad things don't exist, don't be surprised when your immature adult child is attracted to it once they are out on their own.

Don't believe me? Try this fun exercise: google the bios of porn stars (I'm sure you've already found their names and pictures, *wink* *nudge*) and see how many of them were raised in sheltered households by overbearing parents that tried to hide the "bad, sinful" stuff from their child.

Just stay away from the furry porn. It's scary, and should be banned. Think of the children!

(Art by Jason Chan. Buy his stuff.)
(EDIT: Jason Chan's print is now available to purchase)

Left 4 Dead: Great Game, or Greatest Game?

Christmas is coming up next week, and most of you probably think that good ol' ZS is running around like madman trying to get ready for it. Pshaw! You think that after being in this racket for this long that I haven't figured out how to prepare for it? I ditched that last minute crap around the same time that I fired those elves.

(For the record, it took a month to get the smell of burnt elf out of the house. The more you know...)

So what does this rotting pile of flesh do in the meantime to occupy himself? He indulges in a little fantasy fulfillment on the magic box. This year has been especially good to me, as the game industry has finally created a family classic that is honest about what happens during a zombie apocalypse.

While most of the commercials you may have seen for Left 4 Dead make it out to be a game where you and 3 other survivors (surviving what?!?) battle the legions of zombified souls, the real game message of the game comes in the playing:

In a zombie apocalypse, the zombies will win.

Four people against 40,000? Good luck with that. Especially when some of those 40,000 can leap through the air at record distances, vomit zombie attracting bile (smells like teen spirit!) or grab you with a massive tongue. Zombies don't have 50 foot tongues, you say? I think Mrs. Zombie Claus would disagree with you on that one- but I digress.

Crank up the difficulty to "Expert" and you will know just what the apocalypse will be like for regular people as you and your team suffer humiliating defeat after humiliating defeat.Just as you think you are about to reach your safe room, you will succumb to the multitude of putrid flesh who want nothing more than to run up, give you a great big hug and tell you how much you mean to them. And then eat your tasty brain.

Versus mode is also a great way for you regular folk to step into our shoes and see what life is like when you are different. The awkward phases you go through when you are a little overweight or you happen to cry a lot because your eyes glow red and you have a taste for flesh. This is like an afterschool special that you can be a part of!

Buy it, play it, enjoy it. You'll be a better (tasting) person if you do.

Poverty is a Poor Idea

It's Blog Action Day, and this is a blog- so where's the action?

Blog Action Day this year is set to discuss the issue of poverty. So let's discuss: first off, what is poverty?

We know that the world is comprised of the haves and the have-nots, but in the middle of this economic crisis, it seems that the have-nots are an ever expanding group. This troubles me. I know what you're thinking right now (ZS has crazy, wicked ESP) and it goes something like this, "Why does a rotting pile of festive flesh like Zombie Santa care about whether or not people go poor?"

One reason: survival.

Poor people tend to get desperate, and desperate people tend to lash out at what they fear. Zombies are scary... Do you see where I'm going with this?

When I see hateful propaganda such as this for sale, especially in these hard times, I start to get the gooseflesh. Decayed gooseflesh, but gooseflesh all the same. I would never say that I am a proponent of censorship or book burning, but this book is an abomination to abominations such as myself, and I hope that you will join me in putting an end to poverty so that we can get people back to focusing on what is truly important in life- the pursuit of happiness.

Regardless of what you choice of happiness may be, you need to chase after it like it was a deliciously ripe brain, full of juciy, bloody goodness and thoughts of fear at impending death. That brain is yours for the taking if you are willing to smash through a few walls (and maybe a skull or two) if you should choose to pursue it.

Nothing- it's what I got...

I got nothing. Not that this site has a lot of content anyway, but- well you can see for yourself. So instead I'll put up a nice picture that's sure to ignite the ire of any supposed follower of this guy and maybe they'll bring light to my comment section in the form of fire and brimstone.

Contrary to popoular belief, not all of the undead dislike fire. As much as I consider cerebral sushi a fine delicacy, I'm not a fanatic. A little charred backfat can do the body good (my body that is, not the charred one) and so I say, "Raise a glass friends and toast. He was a good man- dare I say, a delicious man!"

The Reason for the Season

Happy New year!

Zombie Santa needs a beer

As if walking the earth cursed for all eternity wasn't bad enough, I have to deliver presents to all of the kids of the earth as well. I'm tired. My rotting husk needs some rest. Maybe a formaldehyde shot or two.

Send beer and some of those undead elf-ettes in the short skirts.

Why do children cry?

This is the time of year that all children should be most excited about. Regardless of what you've heard, children both good and bad are about to be showered with gifts; toys, brains, candy, feet. It is all of the benefits of having a birthday, but without the hassle of having to invite people over and feed them cake. And the best part is- all of your friends get gifts too! What's not to love about this holiday?

Your parents will be cooking up a slew of tasty dishes like roast beast, mashed pota-toes, and steaming bowls full of multi-colored vegetation. All of the relatives that normally shun you will come to your house and pretend to like you and your family just long enough to get liquored up and belligerent. A lucky few will hear the clawing at the door of those that are damned to walk the earth for all eternity. It's X-mas, kiddo!

Now smile and wipe the blood from Zombie Santa's boots!

Zen Yoga is easy when you lack a mind...

Zombie Santa was very clever even as a boy. His teacher had a precious teacup, a rare antique. Zombie Santa happened to break this cup and was greatly perplexed. Hearing the footsteps of his teacher, he held the pieces of the cup behind him. When the master appeared, Zombie Santa asked: "Why do people have to die?"

"This is natural," explained the older man. "Everything has to die and has just so long to live."

Zombie Santa, producing the shattered cup, added: "It was time for your cup to die."