A Copywriter’s Blog

When I was younger, I used to look around and be shocked at how boring adults were. At some point- according to legend- they had once been kids themselves. Why didn’t they have more fun once they could drive and weren’t limited by their allowance and didn’t have to be in bed by eight?

Take restaurants, for example. Why didn’t adults have fun restaurants? Like ones where all the waiters were ninjas, and lead you through secret passages to your table. They could drop out of the ceiling to ask if you were ready to order, and sneak up behind you when bringing your food. And they could all talk in fake Japanese accents and carry swords and maybe even a few could do magic like make fire appear in their hand, and then turn it into your dessert. To younger me, it just seemed obvious that there was a need for this sort of thing.

Luckily, someone else thought so too.


Ninja NY is a great time. The wife took me there for a birthday dinner, and all of the above happened at least once during the meal. Also, we heard the following exchange roughly every thirty seconds:

Ninja: “HAI!”

Good times. Good times.

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Ninja-like copy at the top of the page here.

Some things are just too damn awesome to be fictional. So I knew, the second I beheld what might be the greatest shirt in the universe, that there had to be an actual unliving, non-breathing ninja who inspired the design.

ZombieNinjaPirate cannot speak of course, because zombie’s don’t talk much. But since he’s a ninja, and they never talk anyway, he long-ago mastered sign language.

ZNP by Chris  Wahl
So- now you’re a zombie ninja pirate. What came first?
[Ninja, of course. Your average zombie doesn’t have the coordination to become a ninja. And pirates are way too noisy as a rule. All that “Yaargh” and “Aye” and “Where’s the rum gone?”]

Ok, so you were a ninja. How did you become a zombie?
[I died. This was a couple hundred years ago, and they had just invented gun powder. I thought this guy was waving a chair leg at me and then “boom”. Dead Ninja. I was pretty disappointed, I can tell you. But thanks to the unspeakable Ninja arts and my voodoo priest cousin Fred, I got a second chance.]

Voodoo priest cousin? Japanese voodoo?
[Naw the real stuff. Fred’s really more of a second cousin, I guess. But he’s a solid guy that Fred. He’d have to be to find my corpse and reanimate me.]

Ok. So you’re a ZombieNinja. Why become a Pirate?
[It just happened after the zombie thing. It was sort of natural. See, I was on an assassin mission when, right in the middle of this sweet swordfight with the ghost of a long-dead samurai, my left hand fell off.]

Damn. Really?
[Yeah. Just decomposed, dropped right off. So I figured I’d put a hook there. Good for climbing, good for killing. It just made sense.]

I see. And the eyepatch?
[Well, I don’t actually see out of my eyes anyway, but I figured it went with the hook.]

So how well can you actually fight as a myopic, decomposing, one-handed master of stealth?
[I'm a zombieninjapirate. I can either rip off my own leg and beat you to death with it, or I can rip off your leg and beat you to death with it. Your choice.]

Point taken.

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Ninja Post Ben Levy 2, August


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