I'm A Dead Lover Series
Chapter I: Wtf is life?!
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It is now 11-11-11. You know what that means? Another boring day for me, just like the other 364 days.
Now, I've got a confession to make to you. And a grand tale to tell as well. I am dead. Not that figurative form of talk of a teen when their parents find out they did something stupid. Or when guys were caught cheating on their lovers.
Literally dead.
I am dead serious (pun intended). All I know is that I've got no freaking pulse, I don't breathe, and I don't need to piss every 15 minutes.
How do I look like? I see a man in the mirror. No, I am not Michael Jackson, but we'll get back to him later. I am apparently a guy, probably in the range of 20something years to the point before I got fed up with the married life. So, that might be somewhere in the 20something years still I guess. My eyes pop out occasionally. (Figuratively of course, you dimwit). For I don't sleep at all. How do I know? Because I try to hit up the nightspots every now and then, when there's nothing good on the telly anyway.
Don't you ever mistake me for the glorified undead. I am no freakin' vampire. I don't sparkle at all. My skin looks ugh and eew. Well, that's mainly because my bath soap sucks. These advertisements don't tell the half-truth do they?
Okay, I got no beef with these vampires. (Pun not intended). But they are just annoying the hell out of me. Whenever they see me, they'd make face as if they vomited, then quickly swallowed it back. What's that all about? They are the ones who suck random humans!
I'm getting hazy now with my stories. Must be the brains. Hmmm, brains...
Again, I know it sounds crazy, but believe me on this. If I were alive, I would bet my life on it: Vampires do not take a bath at all. So it's best to avoid them in crowded places.
What am I then? Well, I checked on this very awesome site, err I mean I googled it. And I think you guys got it all wrong. First off, we don't eat human flesh. Who would do such a thing?! That is such a horrible thing to do! Until I read about the cannibals...
Whoever said that a zombie eat humans for fun and nourishment is so untrue. Have you ever read it in the newspaper? CNN? On the Jersey Shore? Hell no. I think that is a malicious misinformation. Secondly, we don't look like dead-dead. I guess it's really offensive to me that people say they look like "zombies" when they look sleepless and haggard. Why can't they just tell that they look awful and ugly, okay?
Now that I convinced you with the facts that only a certified zombie knows, let me tell you more about myself now.
To be honest, I don't know who I was when I was living. True story. All I know is that I woke up one day, with no memories of who I was. I think I woke up in a laboratory. Or, an abandoned room with seemingly medical stuffs around. God, I hate seeing those needles and syringes on the table, they make me sick!
I was wearing nothing else but paper towels covering my body. Like I was a rotting sandwich left on the cafeteria table. I looked pale. And I felt a massive headache, like something drilled my head. Oh I hope it's not those needles. Sick!
Then when I couldn't make up of what happened and who did what, I just walked out, then I ran as fast as I could. There was no one else in that building. I don't recognize the building. Hell, I couldn't even remember my freaking name! All I know is that it was cold, and windy. It has been almost a year now, and I still can't make up what happened.
I decided to get myself a name. I thought Brad Pitt is a cool name, but he was a movie star. Then I decided, I will be known as Beckham. I think it rings a bell, doesn't it?
My name is Beckham, and I am dead, but not "dead"-looking.
Chapter I: Wtf is life?!
------------------
It is now 11-11-11. You know what that means? Another boring day for me, just like the other 364 days.
Now, I've got a confession to make to you. And a grand tale to tell as well. I am dead. Not that figurative form of talk of a teen when their parents find out they did something stupid. Or when guys were caught cheating on their lovers.
Literally dead.
I am dead serious (pun intended). All I know is that I've got no freaking pulse, I don't breathe, and I don't need to piss every 15 minutes.
How do I look like? I see a man in the mirror. No, I am not Michael Jackson, but we'll get back to him later. I am apparently a guy, probably in the range of 20something years to the point before I got fed up with the married life. So, that might be somewhere in the 20something years still I guess. My eyes pop out occasionally. (Figuratively of course, you dimwit). For I don't sleep at all. How do I know? Because I try to hit up the nightspots every now and then, when there's nothing good on the telly anyway.
Don't you ever mistake me for the glorified undead. I am no freakin' vampire. I don't sparkle at all. My skin looks ugh and eew. Well, that's mainly because my bath soap sucks. These advertisements don't tell the half-truth do they?
Okay, I got no beef with these vampires. (Pun not intended). But they are just annoying the hell out of me. Whenever they see me, they'd make face as if they vomited, then quickly swallowed it back. What's that all about? They are the ones who suck random humans!
I'm getting hazy now with my stories. Must be the brains. Hmmm, brains...
Again, I know it sounds crazy, but believe me on this. If I were alive, I would bet my life on it: Vampires do not take a bath at all. So it's best to avoid them in crowded places.
What am I then? Well, I checked on this very awesome site, err I mean I googled it. And I think you guys got it all wrong. First off, we don't eat human flesh. Who would do such a thing?! That is such a horrible thing to do! Until I read about the cannibals...
Whoever said that a zombie eat humans for fun and nourishment is so untrue. Have you ever read it in the newspaper? CNN? On the Jersey Shore? Hell no. I think that is a malicious misinformation. Secondly, we don't look like dead-dead. I guess it's really offensive to me that people say they look like "zombies" when they look sleepless and haggard. Why can't they just tell that they look awful and ugly, okay?
Now that I convinced you with the facts that only a certified zombie knows, let me tell you more about myself now.
To be honest, I don't know who I was when I was living. True story. All I know is that I woke up one day, with no memories of who I was. I think I woke up in a laboratory. Or, an abandoned room with seemingly medical stuffs around. God, I hate seeing those needles and syringes on the table, they make me sick!
I was wearing nothing else but paper towels covering my body. Like I was a rotting sandwich left on the cafeteria table. I looked pale. And I felt a massive headache, like something drilled my head. Oh I hope it's not those needles. Sick!
Then when I couldn't make up of what happened and who did what, I just walked out, then I ran as fast as I could. There was no one else in that building. I don't recognize the building. Hell, I couldn't even remember my freaking name! All I know is that it was cold, and windy. It has been almost a year now, and I still can't make up what happened.
I decided to get myself a name. I thought Brad Pitt is a cool name, but he was a movie star. Then I decided, I will be known as Beckham. I think it rings a bell, doesn't it?
My name is Beckham, and I am dead, but not "dead"-looking.
Dear Dead Beckam,
ReplyDeleteCan you like make translate ur uber englishing post to tangalized verzhen?! It's so hirap kasi to make understand the stuff you wrote. Like, seriously. But I guess, I enjoyed it so manny because I have my English-tagalog dictionary w/ me. Now I now why you're the most famous humor blogger for all eternity last 2009.
Keep Up.
Lovingly Yours,
Jepoy Tabachoy