Get Your Latest Zombie Humor Here!

You can count on me, Andy Zach for scouring the internet for the Latest Zombie Humor! For your reading pleasure:

First, be ready for the zombie apocalypse, be it turkey or anything else!

The Next Latest Zombie Humor

Second, you may want this meal for your next zombie apocalypse:

You don’t get the ‘zombie turkey’ allusion? Read all about it here:

Still More Latest Zombie Humor

Don’t like zombies? Don’t like Zombie Turkeys? (Look how cute they can be!)

Then there’s these zombies:

The Last Latest Zombie Humor

I’ve written the third book in my Life After Life Chronicles.
After Zombie Turkeys:

Then there was My Undead Mother-in-law:

And come May 5th, you can get Paranormal Privateers! The longest, most entertaining, paranormal animal vs the world epic you’ve ever read! Featuring the Undead Mother-in-law, of course, and a cast of hundreds of zombie animals! Note you can automatically enter my monthly free book giveaway by subscribing to my newsletter here.

Or submit the most creative reply to this post and I’ll send you a free ebook of Zombie Turkeys.

Check out the cover reveal coming this Friday, April 27th!

At a Facebook page near you!

Do you want more than the Latest Zombie Humor? Look below!

Here is the opening scene of Paranormal Privateers. Don’t miss it!

Chapter 1 – Somalia

Dirac sighed with relief when the US flag came down and the surrender flag went up on the mast of the titanic luxury yacht. He didn’t mind firing rounds from his AK-47 over their heads, but he hated killing people. He knew they were only infidels, but they were still people.

Inhaling the salted breeze, he grinned back at Muhammed. He cheered and laughed in his seat behind the M2 machine gun in the bow of the boat they used to patrol the coasts and fishing waters of Somalia. The sun gleamed off his white teeth.

“Look, Dirac!” he said. “They’re stopping!”

True enough. The bow wave ceased as he watched. A pod of dolphins ended their sporting on the wave and submerged. The gleaming white yacht loomed above them. What were they doing in the fishing waters of Somalia? He couldn’t imagine the wealth on board. Enough for their whole village to eat well for a year!

Their supreme leader, Omar Ogala, organized Somali fishermen and former coast guard sailors to patrol their fishing waters. He ordered them to capture any fishing or cargo vessels they spotted. He told them the Americans and Europeans no longer cared about Somalia with the other crises around the world and they could defend their coasts from foreign competition—and dumpers. Many foreign nations, knowing Somalia’s military weakness, sent cargo ships full of pollutants and dumped them into their waters.

Chapter 1 – Somalia – Second Part

Dirac never expected to see a luxury ship here. It was as big as a cruise liner, but apparently a private yacht. He’d seen one once before when an Arab sheik visited Mogadishu. This one was three times the size! The owner would pay big to get it back. Maybe even a billion dollars? He couldn’t imagine that much money, and he was good with numbers. Let’s see: fourteen million people lived in Somalia. Divide a billion dollars among them would give each about seventy dollars. Unbelievable. A family of five could live comfortably for a year on that!

He came along as a navigator, fighter, and boarder, guiding their boat along the shore of Somalia and into the Arabian Gulf for several days, before leading them back. Besides Muhammed and him, there was Zahi, another fighter and boarder, and Ali, their captain.

“Dirac,” Ali said, “you and Zahi board this ship and take the helm. You will follow us back to Hobyo. Muhammed and I will stay on the boat and keep the machine gun on them.”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

Ali took the megaphone they carried for ship-to-ship communication. “Let us board! Let us board! Or we will gun your ship!”

Dirac didn’t understand English, of course, but he knew what Ali was saying. Ali was the only one who knew any English.

“Don’t shoot! Give us time! We have to get our ladder!” Surprisingly, the person spoke in Arabic. Good Arabic too, but with a strange Saudi and European accent. More surprisingly, it was a woman, a blonde, from what he could see of the figure leaning over the railing far above us. He kept a close watch on her. Strictly for security purposes, of course.

Chapter 1 – Somalia – Third Part

They kept their boat about fifty meters away from the ship and watched the crew scurry about the many decks. Dirac counted five including the main deck, and there were at least three more decks below the main one.

Finally a rope ladder unrolled from the main deck, perhaps ten meters above them. They came close to the ship. A pod of dolphins flashed under their boat. Then they leapt out of the water and into it.

Only, they weren’t the dolphins he had seen earlier. Four people in green wet suits landed with heavy thumps in Dirac’s boat. They had no breathing equipment, not even snorkels. They took off their goggles, and their eyes shone bright red in the sun.

“Zombies!” Ali cried. “Shoot them!”

Automatically Dirac sprayed the nearest with his AK-47. He heard the others fire too. Muhammed shot the largest one with the big .50-caliber machine gun. That could cut a man in two.

Dozens of red craters appeared in the green wet suit of the one Dirac shot. But she—a white, brown-haired woman—didn’t go down. Her brows furrowed in anger, and shouting in English, she ripped the gun from his hand and threw it into the ocean. He was like a baby with a rattle taken by his parent. The other zombies did the same, except the big one. He grabbed the barrel of the machine gun in both hands and wrenched it from Muhammed. Dirac could hear the zombie’s flesh sizzle on the hot barrel. Then the big zombie bent the barrel into a right angle. Rubbing his hands together afterward, the burned skin fell on the deck of their boat. Pink skin showed on his palms.

Chapter 1 – Somalia Fourth Part

He was enormous, bigger than two Somalis put together. His red eyes looked out of his calm, square face. The bullets from the machine gun had sliced the wet suit open across his chest, and more pink skin showed in the gap. As he watched, brown hair grew.

The fighters were all struck dumb with shock and terror. Then the woman Dirac had shot called up to the blond woman on the main deck. She yelled down in Arabic, “All of you, lie down on the deck, and you will live.”

They quickly obeyed.

Dirac heard a splash. Apparently, she’d dived into the water. She then leapt from the water and landed in their boat.

“I will direct you, and you will listen and obey,” said a tall, shapely blond woman with bright-red eyes. She asked each of their names and roles and plans for taking the yacht. She consulted briefly in English with the others. “Very well, we will follow through with your plans. Dirac and Zahi will come on board with us. Ali and Muhammed will stay in the boat, and we’ll all go to Hobyo.”

Numbly, Dirac climbed the rope ladder to the deck, following Zahi. He tried to process all he had learned in the few minutes of their aborted attack. They hijacked us. But they’re zombies! They want to follow our plan. But they’re zombies! We’re going to Hobyo. But they’re zombies! What will happen there? But they’re zombies!