Those for Conceal and Carry: America's New Pets (Schrodinger's Cat: Part 13)

Before we get into my leftist agenda, which wouldn't exist on this website dedicated to a film production, I'd like to at least attempt to spark your interest in "Main Event of the Dead." This is a film I written about "pro" wrestlers who get conned into competing against undead wrestlers with borderline offensive gimmicks. Nudity, gore and comedy, this film will attempt to take wrestling to an extreme and back from those who say "Let's Go Cena!" Feel fee to ask for a treatment of the story by emailing russthebus07@gmail.com

If only I could get WWE Films behind it. I'd definitely have a better tag line: "If Cena Lives, We Riot."

At this time, I'm not looking for finances to get this project off the ground, just support and some promotional material. If I I have that, I have something to post on Kickstarter to get the cash. 

Please send me your suggestions, if I haven't pissed you off. Or even if I have. That way, I won't need to constantly come up with material, thus the need to blog about what's wrong with the right will cease.

Honestly, I do not know why anyone would be offended when I'm comparing those people to the most adorable creatures on this planet, cats.

A few mornings ago, I leave my second floor apartment to see the heartwarming visage of a black cat with white paws wondering on the balcony. This left me in a very vulnerable state since other residents were leaving for their jobs, and no one was attending to this sleek furball. After a few moments, I was left to follow suit. Without tags, no matter how undoubtedly loving this feline maybe, I couldn't leave a wild beast with my furry, fluffy and awesome cat Eva. At least if she...

Why do we assign the feminine gender to cats...or at least why do I...lets avoid my personal issues for a change with this blog.

If this lost godly creature had her tags, someone could at least knock on the door of the owner to inform them that their residence is less holy. Without a response, I could at least present her with a safe social environment until the bi-peds (sorry if I'm just assuming all my neighbors haven't sacrificed legs to the Bush administration) returned from their places of works.

I hate having to do anything that may serve to restrict...or just tick off...my cute roommate, but I determined that my cat needed to sport her tags. A challenge since she won't communicate her fashion sense. But on the bright side, this means I have a cat urine-free wardrobe, at least until she gets of 3/8th inch choker.

Rationalization 42: Everyone Needs a Visible Tattoo for Identifications Sake.


Read the rest of this blog and other stories at Main Event of the Dead.com and determine if this thought process can be translated into a B-movie comedy about pro-wrestling zombies.