Better PR?

It's been brought to my attention that perhaps all I really need is a good slogan. Maybe that would turn my occupational malaise around a bit, as well as improving my public image.

This was reccomended to me:
"Death, aint I a bitch"
- - - I like it, but, I found "bitch" a little imasculating

Then I came up with these:
Death, just what the Dr ordered (Kevorkian, that is)
Death, sure as taxes but I only get ya once.
Death, the man in black.
Death, the other white meat.
The Reapster: Dead sexy
Brotha Grim, one smooth motha f- whatch your mouth!
the real Grim shady, your #1 lady killer
Death, I walk softly and carry a big sythe
Death, bad to the bones
The bloke in the cloak
Darth Grimwalker -who's your daddy?
Life sucks. Got death?

I don't know. None of them really strike me. Any suggestions???

Women are Nuts

It's only been a couple days but I haven't had a single nibble on my personal add. I surfed around online some more but haven't met anyone who'd respond. Then, I saw this add for a Free Women's Clinic. I had to check that out. I didn't waste any time. I just threw on my best cloak, shined my sythe, and grabbed my binaca. I got there and was impressed. There was a mob of people outside the place and some of the chicks were really hot. They saw me and seemed really excited. They start cheering me and stuff. They kept saying something about the statement I was making. I didn't know what that meant, but like I said, some of the chicks in the group were really hot, so I played along. I wasn't sure what 'statement' I was supposed to be making.

I finally made my way through the crowd and I figured out what was going on. They weren't offering free women. It was a women's health clinic, dammit. The mob was just a pro-life demonstration. I found that kinda funny, being death, but I have to admit I don't really like abortion either. These kids haven't even been born yet, have no names for filing under or anything, and we have to process the death papers before we even have them on file. It's a nightmare in the order processing division and confusing for me. Fetus' all look alike and don't have names or anything. It's just frickin chaos trying to tell who is who.

This really hot red-head came up to me all angry, thinking I was part of the mob. She said that a woman has a right to do whatever she wants with her body. Being death, I don't really care who gets it when. I feel bad for the folks topside who lose loved ones, really I do, but the more people I take to my side the more company I have. Still, being a stickler for phrasing I had to be overly literal again. I said "And a lovely body it is, ma'am, but a fetus would be seperate body, technically, not yours. It's the baby's body you'd be offing, not yours." She slapped me. I didn't tell her not to off the rugrat, I was just correcting her faulty statement. I tried to save the situation. I said "Hey babe, you can kill whomever you want. I do it all the time. But how about you and I wine, dine, and boff a bit first, eh?". She just slapped me again! I swear, you can't win with women. Whatever you say, pro or con, it's always the wrong thing.

What a day.... I called my shrink to tell her about it and she just said I was an insensitive prick. I told her that was absurd and that I even took herbal suppliments to have extra enhanced sensitivity, but she just hung up on me. Women... they're all crazy.

A grim Grim,
Reap

Damn Beurocracies (click image to enlarge)

This Beurocratic BS is getting to be too much. I mean HELLLOOO my name is DEATH not Life and Death. So the crooner is dead. If the CEO wants him back alive so badly, why doesn't he file a resurrection request with the man upstairs? I don't want to go doing some other guy's job. I mean, I'm not lazy, but I don't want to get the unions pissed off because I'm doing some other guy's work. They've got me in a tough spot, though. My evaluation is coming up and I hear the former Grim Reaper has gotten tired of the rock and roll life and may be trying to take my place.

This is really all I know how to do. I can't take Keith Richards' place, so if he takes mine, where do I go? This whole Elvis mistake isn't my fault. I just do what the slips say. But, I have to fix it, of course. I ordered a copy of resurection for dummies and am trying to figure out how to take care of this, but it isn't in my job description and I certainly haven't been trained for it.

I'm so sick of all this red tape and all the triplicate forms and BS. I should have been a dancer.

In corporation-hell (literally),
Your pal,
Reap

Looking For Love

I'm going to try internet dating. It was Doc's idea, but I think it may be a good one. Here's the add I plan on posting:

"Tall, dark, lanky, non-smoking male seeks voluptous bride to share a long death with. I enjoy moonlit strolls on Normandy Beach, romantic candle-lit funerals, and regular boning. Intelligence is not required but housekeeping abilities are a must. No pets, especially monkeys. I am gainfully employed in the population-control industry and have a truly unique brand-new home (designed and built by Frank Lloyd Wright) overlooking an enchanted misty river. "

What do you think? I spent a long time on it. I'm sure I'll get some responses. Who could resist that? It sounds so good I could call myself!

Your #1 lady-killer,
Pimp daddy G.

Dear Diary

Ok, the shrink says this is a journal or "feeling log", but sounds like a diary to me. Yeah, so I haven't kept up with my entries. I missed an appointment with the therapist too. They hunted me down in some bar called The Naked Turtle on the East side of Cozumel Island. Apparently, I'd gone on a total bender and drank myself crazy for a few days. I don't remember it. I remember the Naked Turtle, though. They had monkeys. I like Monkeys. Monkeys are funny. I was standing there, watching these monkeys, though, and some dude yells at me "Ten Cuidado, Sr! Los Changos se gustan tirar caca!". I was so drunk, it took a minute to sink in and the d@m# primate got me right in the face with a wad of monkey poop. It was all stuck in my nose-hole. Sometimes I wish I had a regular face. I can create the illusion, and even make it tangible, but I have to think to make it tangible and thinking wasn't my strongsuit just then.

Anyway... so I've got this new monkey-rug at my place, but it's awfully small. I just use it in front of the door to wipe my boots on. Stupid frickin monkey. Guess it's back to the grind. I have to go see the head-shrink after work tomorrow. Wish me tolerance.

Hung over in Hades,
Reap