akaadam

I am zombie George Carlin and let me tell you... I am undead, unconscious, uncanny, unresponsive, restless, in pieces the recipe for my thesis and my theme is anathematic, but slightly less dramatic. My death is delayed, condolences are belated; believe me, I've been cremated, recreated, carbon dated, outdated, overrated, over-the-hill, but I came around the mountain until I erupted from the Earth to kill. I've been Disintegrated, desecrated, mildly decimated, wildly domesticated, stylishly decorated, dedicated, then just dead. DNA reads expired. I've been parodied, satire'd, let go, then rehired, undermined, underestimated, under-compensated, and I'm overcompensating for long forgotten short comings. I've been Prefixed, suffixed, suffered the consequence of overzealously over-drinking, over-driving, overriding, over-drafting, overselling, overdosing, thanotos-ing, comatosing, comma splicing, gene splicing, and mutation of word association. Too much too soon. I'm passed my twilight and into a new moon. I've eclipsed my prior life, and I'm breaking dawn of the dead. Breaking bad like Bryan Cranston, breaking news like Charles Manson, breaking the rules, breaking bones, breaking records, breaking necks. What's next? I've been youtube'd, failblogged, facebook'd, flash mobbed. I point here, point there, but I have no point anywhere. I'm repressed, suppressed, not impressed, hard-pressed, hard-boiled, over easy if you catch my drift; Bereft of life, but here and now. The late George Carlin is on time somehow. You say this is in bad taste, but you've never tasted brains. For breakfast I eat cerebrum cereal, for lunch medulla a la carte, for dinner rice and asparagus on the side of chicken temporal lobe! I pushed the daisies, pulled your leg, pushed the envelope, pulled the plug, tugged on heartstrings, shed a tear, held my breath and wound up here. I've got postmortem depression. I was down and out, in and out, now out and about without a doubt. Skin still looks the same. I turned over in my grave, because I was getting a little dark on this side. Was on SNL, now SOL. Oh well I'm Immortal, immoral, immobile, impervious, impalpable, impossible, unstoppable! Awfully ostentatious, flawlessly fallacious, viciously vivacious. I'm a spiteful nightmare, hypnotic dream eater, cursed ball of shadow, a ghastly haunter Gengar. I've been carried, buried, undertaken to the underworld, mistaken for a another soul, awakened back in the hole where I was entombed, encased, incarcerated, erased. Then resurrected, recollected, reconciliated, reconstituted, and rebooted, reproduced, redirected (by Romero). I'm a midnight stalker, preying on organ donors. My weakness is an Achilles' head, but I'll kill you dead if you're out of lead. I'm Infected, contagious, insanely outrageous. Inflicted, prescripted, insipid, conflicted, conscripted into the army of darkness, and moved to the resident hall of evil.. I was wasted. I drank at after parties, I drank in the afterlife. I even binged in purgatory. My obituary is arbitrary, my eulogy useless, my will is done. I'm the scariest, hilarious, ghoulish, coolest, blood-thirsting, gut-bursting, brain-splitting, side-splitting, bile-oozing, amusing, bonefide, glorifying, horrifying zombie. I'm deceased but deceptive, was restin', now I'm destined to roam the Earth at night, to moan and lurk with fright, and occasionally wander in search of a nice restaurant not one too expensive though. I guess you can say I'm necro-comical, physically volatile, spiritual abominable, and mentally illogical, formerly paleontological, and hopefully, applaudable.