Dear Zombieslayer

After this week, I'll be taking a hiatus from posting ethnic jokes because my partner in crime, the guy who's supposed to be doing my research for hot chicks for my ethnic jokes, is retired from blogging. That means I'll have to do the research myself. You don't actually expect me to work, do you?

In the meantime, Thom is cool. The guy can write. That said, I shamelessly stole one of his ideas. One warning, his site is R-rated, so I'm warning you ahead of time before checking it out.

Thom helps people out. People ask him questions to help them in their everyday existence so I decided to do the same. So if you're having problems with your life, let me know and I'll give you advice.

So far three people have asked me for help. Here they are, with my responses.

Dear Zombieslayer,
My boyfriend "Jim" doesn't pay enough attention to me. He only says he loves me when I ask him if he does. I really wish he'd say it more often.

My friend "Trisha" used to go out with him and she said that Jim was really nice to her, sending her flowers and chocolates and other surprises. He never did that for me and we've been together for over a year now. What should I do?

Signed,

Desperately Seeking the Truth


Dear Desperately,
That's very nice.
The big question is, how much have you prepared for the upcoming zombie plague? Have you stockpiled food and water? Make sure you have enough food and water to last you for at least a month.
Also, do you have weapons? You should have at least a rifle, a shotgun, and a pistol with a hundred rounds for each. You need to take them to the ranges as often as you can because someone with a firearm who doesn't know how to use it is just as dangerous as the zombies they're shooting at.
Good luck with your stockpiling.
Sincerely,

The Zombieslayer



Dear Zombieslayer,
I used to think my parents never paid attention to me. Now I know I'm wrong, totally wrong. Now I'm convinced that they do the opposite of anything I ask them to do. Why are they so mean to me?

Help me,

Confused


Dear Confused,
You've done an excellent job at reading the minds of your parents and I'm proud of you. Time for a little reverse psychology.
Tell your parents that there are no such things as zombies and they don't need to go out and buy at least one month of food, water, and weapons for the entire family. And after they go out and buy all that stuff, tell them that you don't need to practice shooting because you already are an expert with every type of firearm ever made.
Don't worry, Confused. After you tell them this, everything will be okay. I'll meet you in person when the zombie plague is over and shake your hand (or give you a big hug if you're a hot chick).

Sincerely,

The Zombieslayer


Dear Zombieslayer,
I think I have thorougly prepared for the upcoming zombie plague. I have 37 rifles, 12 shotguns, 28 handguns, a full-size propane tank, a generator, several barrels of gasoline, enough food and water for all my friends and relatives for several months, and we own fourteen acres in the woods and I recently completed a cast iron fence around our main property.
The problem is, I'm bored out of my mind. I've been waiting for this zombie plague you keep talking about, but when is it going to come? My kids are getting ansy and my wife is getting serious cabin fever. What do I do?

Signed,

Bored to Tears

Dear Bored,
Congradulations. You are one of the few who gets it. You're bored? Well, is your wife hot? If so, have her pose in a bikini (it's hot, it's for her comfort) with each one of your firearms. I'll need to see if you purchased the right ones. You can mail the pictures to The Zombieslayer, Santa Barbara, CA. Don't worry, the post office personel all know me. We go shooting together at least once a week.

Looking forward to meeting you when this is all over.

Your future pal,

The Zombieslayer