Monday, September 3, 2012

Hey Jed, just phone it in.....

You may have noticed that most pay phones have gone away, much like the proverbial dinosaur of this day and age.  Guess the world is addicted to cell phones.  I suppose that is easy to understand.  Most people can’t walk and chew gum at the same time, but cell phones bring another element into the equation.  Show me a person walking and talking on his cell phone and I will show you a dude about to fall into an open man hole as he’s walking down the street!  Anyway, the other night I was bored, so I went out for a walk.  After I chomped a brain or two from a couple of security guards who were keeping late night watch over a nearby parking garage, I saw a pay phone within a few yards east of garage.  Wow, I thought I was seeing things for a moment!  Who in the hell uses pay phones in this day and age of digital wizardry?  So after a long pause, I thought to myself, I’ll bet there is a fortune of coins in that old pay phone.  You might ask, “What does a zombie need with pay phone change?”  Well, Christmas is not too far away and now I have a girlfriend who expects gifts.  Plus, I need to have something to drop into the charity buckets outside of the department stores.  That way my conscience is clear when I attack the volunteers in charge of such charity buckets!  So, I swaggered over to the pay phone and stuck my fingers into the coin return slot and fished around for some coinage and…. found…. NOTHING!  Damn!  Oh well, I figured I would just move on and maybe I would be able to find another pay phone or some drunk to roll for his pocket change.  Great, my fat fingers were stuck in this damn phone!  I couldn’t get them out.  SON OF A SWAMP MOTHER!!!  Now what was I supposed to do??  I started to panic.  I could have just chewed off the half rotten appendages, but that is not the way of a zombie of incredible distinction, such as me.  Thinking back to my days as a first rate martial arts instructor, I started to round house kick this pay phone in hopes of dislodging my fingers from this sinister machine.  First one and then two kicks at a time.  Finally, I was kicking the crap out of this little bitch!  The little coin whore had it coming.  One roundhouse kick, right after another quickly came from my lethal weapon legs.  Chuck Norris would be proud, even if I was still not having any luck of dislodging my fingers from that stupid pay phone.  Just then, I heard a patrol car screeching down the street.  Oh great.  The cop bounced out of his car like he was getting ready to take down a serial killer.  He yelled, “Stop or I’ll have to shoot you!!”  Without even giving me the chance to explain my situation, Barney Fife Lite shot me with his taser and damn near fried my giblets into oblivion.  Next thing I knew, the cop hauled me, with the pay phone in-tow, right to the slammer.  Another night of hard luck for a good zombie; guess I should have stayed home and took another dirt nap.

Thanks for reading Freakin' Dead Jed's blog.  I really appreciated it.  Freakin' Dead Jed and all related characters are copyright 2012 by Action Avenue Art Studio, Action Avenue Studio and Paul Addison. 

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