Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Star Spangled War Stories #3

That zombie in overalls has the worst super power ever: Reverse Star Bolts.

Holy Christ Inside A Communion Cracker! I missed such a great opportunity to write this commentary on Veteran's Day! I scanned the cover and wrote the stupid caption on Veteran's Day but then I got distracted by easier things like lying on the couch and watching television with the space heater cuddling me in its warm ejaculate. Plus I had to work last night in a wind storm which was cold as a twitch's wit. Also, I don't really acknowledge Veteran's Day. Who do those soldiers think they are? Some kind of big shots or something? Maybe I should write a poem about soldiers before I'm called unpatriotic and also called an ungrateful, dickless, communistic freeloader. I've been called that before and it really stings! So mean!

Veteran's Day: My Poem

Sometimes it's really good to pretend to care about something.
Loudly and exuberantly! Especially in a public place.
Because Veteran's Day isn't just about celebrating those that would give their lives for somebody else.
(Even if it's for corporate reasons that will result in a boatload (a literal one, probably!) of cash)
Veteran's Day is about each and every one of us. But especially the one of us that is me.
Because it's when I can stand up and say, "I'm the biggest fucking patriot in the room.
And you'd better not fucking forget it, you long haired hippie fuck!"
Oh, and don't mention gray ideas during this day because just shut up, asshole.
Also do not be a conscientious objector for any reason, at least not on this day.
Because nobody wants to hear how not supporting war is the biggest support of veterans there is.
At least not today. So just shut up already, you asshole.
This isn't about you!
Freedom isn't free.

Goddammit! I fucked up my poem! I didn't use the word "hero" in it at all! Bah! Now it's worthless as a Veteran's Day poem. Everybody is right! I'm a useless, pathetic, atheist monster! I wonder if Hallmark sells a card for that?

They weren't hillbilly gunrunners. They were biker gunrunners. Get your American stereotypes straight, GI Zombie!

The animal hospital GI Zombie crashes into has a frog in it. Do people take their sick frogs to the vet? How do you tell when a frog is sick? How do you tell when any reptile is sick?! Um, I mean amphibian!

Frog: "BRRRRT!"
Frog Owner: "Oh my gosh! Clemens isn't feeling well! He's hardly not cuddling at all!"
Frog: "BRRRRT!"
Frog Owner: "Oh! Just listen to his noise he makes constantly! It's not quite as noisy or constant as usual! He must...hee hee hee...have a human in his throat!"
Frog: "BRRRRT!"
Frog Owner: "No, wait. He seems okay. Throw some flies or some shit in there and grab the frisbee. Let's go play with Senator Constance Churchlover, the greatest Labradoodle to ever live! See you later...what was your name? Oh yeah! See you later, Clemens, you stupid frog."
Frog: "BRRRRT!"

Any love you feel from your amphibian or reptile is simply a projection of your own insatiable desire for a substitute for your mother's inadequate love. Your constrictor is not hugging you for the reasons you think it is. Although, when you're so starved for human contact, who really cares the reason for a nice chillingly cold hug, amirite?

Does nobody in this comic book know the difference between a hillbilly and a biker?

The missile GI Zombie rode into Sutterville, Tennessee, carried a biological weapon which turns everything into zombies. That's the best kind of biological payload because it can turn your comic book into a smash independent hit which will eventually make you thousands and thousands of dollars in a television deal!

Ahh! Zombie cats! That's the worst kind of threat because they don't have to chase you down. They just lick their butts until you walk up and say, "Aww! How cute! Kitty wanna head scratchy?" And then you bend down and the cat turns on you, hissing and spitting and biting you! Then it runs away like a crazy person and you're left thinking, "Fucking cat! Acting all normal and the way cats act! I probably don't need to worry about this bite." And then you're a zombie! Zombie cats would take over the world in no time.

The carrier of the biological weapon becomes brain dead when infected. So how can you tell if a dog is infected? Ha ha! Dogs are stupid!

I've never been a huge fan of dogs. I don't mind them on occasion in small chunks of time, if they're calm. But I think I really wouldn't mind making friends with an Australian Shepherd. I'd take it to the dog park where I'd teach it to pick on the other dogs for being so incredibly stupid and loyal to idiots. I'd stand around smoking a big fat cigar while other dog owners would come up to me and ask, "What is your dog doing?" We'd watch as my friend made a series of head movements and signs with his paws which look like pointing right in the other dog's face. Then I'd chew on my cigar a bit, move it to the corner of my mouth so I could talk around it, and say, "He just called your dog a fucking moron. HA!"

GI Zombie goes around town like an asshole killing animals. If that's the price of freedom, it's too fucking high! I suppose I'd need some veterans on hand to save my life in this situation because I couldn't shoot a fucking cat and I'd probably, eventually, get too upset to kill any more dogs. I suppose I could take the job of shooting the humans while somebody else takes the animals. I wouldn't have a problem with that.

The issue ends with GI Zombie being overrun by Civilian Zombies. What a bunch of assholes! Don't they know yesterday was Veteran's Day?! Have some respect!

Star Spangled War Stories #3 Rating: No change. Three issues in and not one war story, star spangled or otherwise! I suppose, if you're a didactic asshole, you could argue that GI Zombie battling zombies for the fate of America is a war. But if you did argue that, I'd have to ban you from reading my blog for disagreeing with me.

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