zombieelvis

Zombie make dinner. Zombie make dinner good.

And so it was that I came to invite a couple of old friends we hadnt seen for years around to dinner at the Zombie homestead. 50% of said friends had been the best man at My Good Lady Wifes wedding (to me). The other 50% was also present at said wedding and is the living partner of the first 50%. That makes 150% of Friendage attending the Zombie dinner.

Now Im a vegetarian. And I do all the cooking in my house (Potato Smilies and Findus Cheesy Pancakes), so that means that everyone who eats in my house is for that period of time a vegetarian.

Let me give you some statistics on vegetarianism:

78% of vegetarians have both male and female sets of genitals.
99% of meat-eaters use only 12% of their brain capacity.
The remaining 88% of meat-eaters brain capacity is used to fund terrorism.
In 1993 I was kidnapped by aliens and flown over Liverpool. I could see my house and, dude, it was awesome.
Video piracy is a crime, do not accept it, check whether this video cassette carries a genuine security hologram.
In the summer of 1967, three men who ate meat had their livers infested with snakes or something.
My uncle hates nuts, they make him wheezy, but he does like sexual intercourse with women of the lady persuasion, which in some countries classifies him as heterosexual, despite what his mother says about him. And what does she know? Shes been tamazipammed-up at the care home for the last 16 years and smells of pee pee.

Now Im not vegetarian because bunnies are cute Ive said this before Im veggie because I hate animals, and dont want their flesh in my body. They roll around in their own poo and eat slime. Some of them have wings. A quantity of them are Lionel Blair. If God had meant us to eat animals, he wouldnt have bothered covering them in skin and stuff. And theyd probably be crisp-shaped. And be born in easy-tear packets.

So on the evening of the Zombie dinner with Friendage, I spent roughly two hours making veggie curry from scratch without once resorting to Findus Cheesy Pancakes and Potato Smilies. The reason it took two hours is because I had to punctuate the sauce stirring with inconvenient tipples of fizzy beer. However, when the Zombie dinner was cooked, we all sat down and began to eat it. True, I had forgotten to cook any rice. True, I had actually forgotten to cook any veggie curry. True also, my previous statement was a lie and the meal was, in fact, Findus Cheesy Pancakes and Potato Smilies, but its the thought that counts. Add to this the presence of a significant quantity of alcohol; 68% more alcohol than you originally guessed before the preceding semi-colon; a lime; a jug of tequila to accompany preceding lime; and the phrase you lazy fuckwit, why didnt you prepare any dinner when you invited us around for dinner?

Let me expound: after some quantities of Satans Water, 82% of my Friendage (approximately the male section) happened to instance upon the lack of meal in the meal and made a constructive remark thereupon, suggesting that I had some sort of vegetarian-related brain trauma and that I had 'dick for brains'. And so a pleasant discussion was born, during which I happened to attack his face with a lime and blinded him for the remainder of the evening.

Now then. I admit to being a little off my fucking tits due to having a cold and using my mothers morphine to relieve the symptoms, but 82% of my Friendage was, in my defence, being a trifle playful with his turn of phrase, and I feel partially justified in my presenting his eyes with a citrus. However, his living partner (they have no children yet because his sperms have two-tails) failed to see the passion of my stance and tried to express this by introducing her hot Findus Cheesy Pancake to my forehead.

You should all be aware of the ideological implications of such a move, hot Findus Cheesy Pancakes having been used in place of napalm during the miners strikes of the early eighties. This was not simply an affront on my skin, but also a terrifying indictment of my left-wing principles. It also made my eyes water.

This is, of course, purely word of mouth, because after my first potato smiley I have no memory and these events have been related to me by My Good Lady Wife, who has a humour-related disease that makes her toy with my brain. And so I ask all you budding young legal experts out there:

1 Do lime attacks constitute a crime?
2 Can I claim for forehead damage?
3 If a daddy gerbil loves a mummy gerbil very much and they make little baby gerbils to show their love, how come the mummy gerbil always eats some of the baby gerbils, and did my grandmother do the same with her kids?
4 A bus leaves the depot at 1530 hours, and travels at 37 mph. At what time will it reach its destination 20 miles away, given that there are 21 stops along the way, with each stop taking an average of 40 seconds, and with at least 32% of the passengers in possession of groinal chiggers?
5 Will I have to show the doctor my bikini place?

Since the Zombie dinner, my Friendage and I have reconciled and my wounds have healed. Experts have assured my Friendage that he will soon be able to use the toilet without it burning so much. But I wonder if things can ever really be the same again? No time to be maudlin about such matters. I have a hunger and a freezer full of Findus Cheesy Pancakes to get through. Mmmmmm theyre delicious. And now with 92% more napalm-tastic cheese.