Tag Archives: hold that ewww

The Zombie Sex–Bacon Issue

2 May

I know you’re too embarrassed to talk about it, and I know you think you’re the only one it happens to. But trust me, you’re not a freak: 82 percent of women crave bacon after having sex with a zombie, according a recent study by the Zombo-Humalogical Intercourse Intercon Research Group. A postcoital BLT is as common as a cigarette.

The reason is simple—xylem sap. (And now you’re thinking, Xylem wha…? You, my friend, are so predictable!)

Xylem sap is the main ingredient in maple syrup, a staple when it comes to flavoring bacon.  Xylem sap is also a major component in the scent sanitizer with which you regularly dose your zombie. Thanks to the abscisic acid, which binds to the odor molecules in putrified flesh, your fetid honey smells as fresh as a forest on a brisk autumn morning. But when the abscisic acid in your zombie’s scent sanitizer interacts with the chemicals in his erectile-dysfunction medication, the compound takes on a sweet-smoky smell. The result: visions of sizzling bacon dance in your head.

Should you give in to the craving? That question is up to you. Each person is different and there’s no universal right or wrong. Many women consider bacon to be one of the best things on earth, and after a rigorous session with their sweetie, they’ve built up an appetite.

My one piece of advice: If you do succumb, go whole hog. Don’t waste your time, money or calories on turkey substitutes. You might be in a relationship with a rotting corpse, but you’re still too good for second best.


Spa package: Take home the perfect zombie boyfriend

29 Feb

Zombies! They’re still a dime a dozen, but you’ve yet to meet one that qualifies as boyfriend material. If all the zombies you know are too zombiacious, then our first two methods—culling the herd and hitting the slaughterhouse—probably aren’t for you. You need something a little more sophisticated. Method 3 provides sophistication (as well as domestication!) in spades. But you have to be willing to put up with a little pampering. Think you can handle it? Great. Check in to the resort spa of love.

Method 3: Spending a day at the spa

Best suited for:

  • Women with no time to spare
  • Women who like luxury
  • Women who want a low-maintenance relationship
  • Women with large disposable incomes

What it entails: Spending a day at the spa is exactly what it sounds like: You check into a high-end spa in the morning and spend the day being coddled and pampered while the staff presents a series of zombies for your inspection based on a detailed questionnaire you filled in while getting a pedicure.

The advantages: The advantages to a spa zombie are almost impossible to calculate. A zombie from a spa is fully domesticated, which means you get a perfectly groomed specimen whose skin is soft and firm from daily elasticity treatments. He smells as fresh as a daisy and comes with a firmly established drug regimen. All spa zombies are vetted by the spa staff and are trained in comportment. They eat only the highest-quality brains and retain all their limbs and digits.

Biannual checkups are included in all spa packages, as is a month’s supply of all creams, sprays and injections.

A spa zombie requires no effort on your part. You walk in single; you walk out with the perfect boyzomb.

The disadvantages: There only disadvantage to a spa zombie is expense. Prices start at $1,000 and increase incrementally depending on what services you require.

Conclusion: Going the spa route is a simple, high-end, luxurious, no-fuss way to meet a zombie—and what a zombie you’ll meet! Busy career women with no time to spare will delight in the ease and splendor of the experience: They leave with softer, younger skin; perfectly manicured nails; and a boyzomb. Now, that’s what you call one-stop shopping!

Zombie boyfriend away and you wanna play? Anka Radakovich has your sex toys.

15 Feb

Sexpert Anka Radakovich discusses zombie sex toys.

If your zombie boyfriend is away on business—lumbering after deer on Fire Island, say, with several of his closest undead buddies—or off his meds, you might need a backup plan to take care of your…needs. Never fear. Anka Radakovich, world-famous sex columnist and writer for British GQ, has emergency provisions that will keep you satisfied. 

The perfect sex toys for zombies and the people who date them have arrived!

From its Freaks collection, the Fleshlight Company offers his ‘n’ her sex toys for nights of “necro-feel-ya.” The nasty-looking gray  Zombie Dildo is for the ladies, and the Zombie Fleshlight is the favorite sex toy of zombie males. The fake vagina-in-a-can will suck the life out of him.

The company claims their “cock of the living dead” is made with “the highest-quality, platinum-cured silicone.” The zombie dick is great as a gift to yourself when your zombie is out of town, or to use in case your zombie can’t get it up.

According to Fleshlight, “The zombie wants your brains and the only way to get them is to f**k them out of you!” Dead or alive, the Fleshlight zombie dong has a constant erection.

Columnist, author and screenwriter, Anka Radakovich defined the modern-day sex column with her wildly popular column for Details magazine, which she wrote for nine years. Her hilarious take on sex, dating and relationships, created a devoted following. Currently, she writes a column for British GQ and is finishing her third book. Follow her on twitter @ankarad.

Zombie sex misconception #3: zombies are squidgy

1 Dec

OK, so you’ve gotten over the ewww and you’ve overcome the stink, but, you say, there’s still the squidge. Zombies are squidgy. They have gooshy, dampish and unpleasantly yielding skin.

You don’t want to feel that pressed up against you.

Squidginess might have been an issue with previous generations of zombies (although a recent article in The Daily Scoopage posits that this so-called pliancy problem was part of a global smear campaign orchestrated by vampire lovers), but it’s absolutely not a factor for the current crop. Modern medicine ensures that the well-cared-for zombie has the epidermis of a healthy forty-five-year-old. Apply regular firming treatments and your boyzomb will permanently retain the semisoft suppleness of early middle age forever. Banish thoughts of soggy bacon forever!

Brains—it’s what for dinner

24 Oct

Brains. Brains. Brains. When it comes to zombies, it’s all anyone can think about. Oh, no, the evil, insatiable zombie is going to eat my brain! 

Of course this is a perfectly natural response. For much of history, zombie outbreaks have meant the end of civilization as we know it and the beginning of a full-scale, adrenaline-driven, fight-or-flight existence in which the slightest hesitance could mean a bloody lobotomy and certain death. But the image of roving bands of zombies lumbering down the street with dura mater sticking to their chins is so indelibly fixed in our collective mind that we can’t see the forest for the meninges. The h1Z1 variant Y zombie isn’t that zombie. Yes, with the incontrovertible habit of his species, he eats brains, but he doesn’t eat your brain. He eats the brains of cows and chickens and pigs—animals you yourself eat with startling regularity. That doesn’t make you a monster, does it?

The difference, of course, is the ick factor, the arbitrary designation of grossness to parts of the animal your culture doesn’t consider appropriate for human consumption. But offal isn’t always awful. In many parts of the world, it’s considered a delicacy. The French, for example, love cervelle de veau, calf’s brains sautéed with beurre noir and capers, and Indonesians enjoy gulai otak, beef brains simmered in a coconut milk curry. The problem of zombies, it turns out, isn’t a lack of taste so much as a lack of condiments.

Dating a zombie doesn’t mean you have to partake of brains when out on a date. You should never compromise your own beliefs just to impress a cute zomb. (The self-administered lobotomy, like mankind itself, is so last millennium.)  But you should try to refrain from being judgy about it. A healthy relationship requires a healthy dose of respect. So if your boyzomb likes brains for breakfast, lunch and dinner, cut him some slack—and maybe wipe his chin.

Zombie sex. You’ll be surprised.

14 Oct

I know what you’re thinking: zombie sex—ewww.



All done?

Oh, wait, one residual one? OK.


Great. Now that that’s out of your system, let’s move on.

There are many misconceptions about zombie sex—and in the coming months I will discuss all of them here—but the single most enduring one is that zombie sex is gross and disgusting and completely revolting. In a study conducted by Geiser and Meyser Zombaceuticals, 58 percent of respondents said the thought of having sex with a zombie makes them throw up in their mouth.

Fair enough.

But the revulsion women feel at the thought of zombie sex has little to do with the modern, twenty-first century zombie and everything to do with the squidgy, smelly, putrid zombie of generations past. Previous species of zombies smelled like rotten meat mixed with dog crap and decayed at a rapid rate, their skin sliding off their frame like soggy pieces of bacon. Their gnarled teeth tore at their human victims with single-minded mendacity. Their garbled voices hurled growls into the dark night with ferocious hunger.

Any sane human being would feel nauseated at the thought of touching such a disgusting creature.

However, the modern, twenty-first-century zombie is nothing like his predecessor. The variant Y zombie is able to distinguish between higher order and lower order animals. He doesn’t crave human brains. This abstention has paved the way for a groundbreaking revolution in zombie pharmaceuticals. With the right regimen of zombaceuticals, today’s zombie is cleaner, firmer, sweeter smelling, better mannered and just plain nicer than his forerunner.

Zombie sex. You’ll be surprised