You just made my list!

Awesome!

So anyway, I’m cutting this piece of paper on Friday with an X-acto knife when all of a sudden I see the side of my finger sitting there on the table? I looked at it and thought “Why aren’t you on my hand anymore?” The arrogant piece of finger just stared back at me like “What are you gonna do about it?”

Touché finger piece, you win this one.

If you are like me, you have often wondered what to do if attacked by cowboy boots filled with meat!

Even though the current sword fighting fad is mostly driven by hipsters who have grown bored of their fixed gear bikes and mustaches, one can no longer leave the house unprepared. Just yesterday I was challenged to a sword fight on my way to the post office and, like a fool, I was standing there without any weapon other than my messenger bag which I was forced to throw at the swordsman like an old lady throwing her purse! I immediately came home and web surfed the world wide web for “best swords stab slice crush awesome dungeon overweight” and found this. Perfect!

I was all set to write about how much I hate the Oscars, but God damn it, I didn’t mind them this year. I was happy to see The Hurt Locker steal awards away from that piece of shit Avatar. Keep in mind, I have not seen either movie and yet I have a strong opinion on both. I’m proud to be an American!

Since I have celebrities on my mind, let’s talk about how much more awesome I am than Johnny Depp.

I like Johnny Depp as an actor and I’m sure it would be fun to get drunk with him and have a sword fight. Not like a penis sword fight, I mean with real swords. Although, he was in those pirate movies so it wouldn’t be very fair. OK, let’s just say we get drunk and MAYBE have a pee sword fight. The point I’m clearly making is that this guy dresses like he was part of some childhood game where the participants are blindfolded and race to see how many articles of clothing they can put on before time is up.

I mean what is this guy’s thought process in the morning? “OK, let’s see here… two pairs of jeans, socks on my hands, a leather belt and car keys around my neck, a diaper, five shirts, peanut butter in my hair, tampons in my ears and finally I think I will top it all off with the kind of hat computer programmers wear on game night. Done and done!”

It’s bad enough being told to “dream” by some piece of shit hanging on your wall, but when you cheerfully ask me to let God’s love climb inside me and do something blah blah blah at the end of your email, it fills me with a form of rage yet to be described by the English language.

I just want to know why you haven’t shipped my Ninja swords yet, I don’t need your dime store Obi-Wan Kenobi bullshit at the end of your email. When a person is sitting at home waiting for their fucking Ninja swords to arrive so that he might protect himself from rival Ninjas in the neighborhood, do you really think he wants to be told “When you believe in yourself the possibilities are endless?” NO! I WANT MY SWORDS!

Why is it that the more horrible and pathetic your shitty life is the more you believe in crappy inspirational nonsense? Do you think Donald Trump ends his emails with “Faith is daring the soul to go beyond what the eyes can see?” Of course not, and we all know Donald Trump is the most powerful, rich, awesome, charismatic, classy man in the universe. We should be so lucky! You think Donald Trump has to lock himself in the house for two weeks while he waits for his swords to arrive? Are you kidding? That man gets his swords flown to him on a private jet directly from Chinese Ninja training camps.

And PLEASE stop telling me to have a “blessed day.” I don’t want a blessed day, I simply want my swords.