Sunday, September 27, 2015

Zombie Zen: Haiku Of The Dead 2

Street lights flickering.
Ghoulish moans from the alley
and shuffling footsteps.

Don't call them zombies–
it's more polite to call them
the living impaired.

The outbreak spread fast–
just one night of zombies for
total anarchy.

Zombie heads go splat
with my twenty-two rifle
until it jams up.

If they surround you,
there's no way to get past them:
walls of rotten teeth.

I hate zombie dogs–
being zombified doesn't
slow them down any.

He's remembering:
that one zombie in the crowd
who picks up a gun.

They prefer fresh brains,
but if they get desperate
they'll eat each other.

Lock and load, zombies–
my brains aren't on the menu.
Eat bullets instead!

They found a way in:
zombies jumping down chimney.
Should've made a fire.

Friday, September 25, 2015

Calzone / Killzone

killzone (kil-zohn):

Definition: 1. A bubbling calzone packed with 10 different cheeses, meats, and other artery clogging ingredients. 2. A sentient calzone with deadly intent, possibly possessed or controlled by magical means. 3. An assassin wearing a calzone suit (hands out coupons outside of an Italian restaurant until their target arrives).

Example: Pizza Shack's "Ultimate Meat-splosion Wrap" is loaded with saturated fat. It's really more of a killzone than a calzone.

See also: killzonae (alternate spelling and pronunciation), deathwrap, snot pocket.

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Hair-ku: The Zen Of Balding

Great, I'm going bald
and I'm not even forty.
Might as well shave it.

There's another one...
an angry business man with
a sad comb over.

Receding hairline:
I'd better not go bald or
there'll be hell toupee!

I'm losing my hair.
Some women like a bald guy,
but most of them don't.

When I hit thirty,
I quickly lost all my hair...
just call me Cue Ball.

The "baldness demon"
dances on my head nightly–
stomping out my hair.

How come old rock stars
still have really long black hair?
Has to be a wig.

Male pattern baldness:
it's bound to happen if it's

No hairpiece for me.
I think I'd rather be bald
than in denial.

Slowly getting fat.
Hairline is receding fast.
Damn, being old sucks!

Wednesday, September 16, 2015


weirdough (weer-doh):

Definition: 1. A pastry or bread product made sentient by genetic manipulation or sorcery. 2. A strangely shaped donut, strudel, ect.

Example: The Burnsvery Bread Boy is a weirdough. He may appear to be a lovable scamp that helps you in the kitchen, but he's just as liable to bite your fingers off.

See also: hybread, the unbread, the unwholey (for weirdoughs NOT made from whole wheat).

Friday, September 11, 2015

Pizza Haiku!

Every friday I
get Little Caesar's pizza–
you can't beat five bucks!

I like Pizza Hut,
but I certainly could do
with less orange grease.

Bland and uninspired:
Domino's pizza tastes like
the box it comes in.

Chuck E Cheese doesn't
have arcade games anymore–
just gambling for kids.

Papa John's is great!
Better ingredients does
make better pizza!

Super-salty crust:
it's not the Noid's fault this time.
For shame, Domino's!

Papa John's hand-tossed
comes with a shriveled pepper.
What is it there for?

Constant smell of barf
at Cici's Pizza buffet...
and the floor squishes.

Earth to Domino's:
loading your crust with spices
doesn't make it new.

Hot dogs and pizza
aren't meant to go together–
stop it, Pizza Hut!