foiled again. again!

today at work, while gluing white squares of Lego to the backsides of motorboards, i thought of something magnificent.
Tronald Dump.
i know what you're thinking. omg.
i was too.
because Tronald Dump isn't just a mere spoonerism.
Tronald Dump is actually near perfect. it combines all three basic elements of the Triforce of Comedy.
it's timely.
it's hilarious.
and it involves the toilet.
and for a minute, for one glorious minute, i envisioned a bountiful future.
a t-shirt.
a catch phrase.
tiny little crap wigs.
that is until Jack, quickly and efficiently, Google searched the name Tronald Dump.
throat punch.
i was not the first person to discover the infinitely comedic gold mine that is Tronald Dump.
what's more depressing is that, somewhat suprisingly, the first person to think of Tronald Dump is a dog with a MySpace account.
i wish, oh Wayne and Garth, i wish i was making this up.
but it's too late.
Tronald Dump is a computer literate dog.
a dog who enjoys high fives and human food, and who hates recorder whistles and laser pointers.
a dog who is apparently bisexual, 36 years old, a bodybuilder of African descent and has exactly one hundred friends (several of whom appear to also be dogs with access to the internet).
i'm done.
i can't compete with this.
curse you, Tronald.
curse you, you son of a bitch.

the trials and tribulations of Professor Jump Kick

here is a brief list of the various Special Powers i have accumulated over the years:

- ability to erase memories (unfortunately this only works on myself and only when alcohol is present)

- unlimited jump kicks

- ability to smoke a cigarette while playing Nintendo and still win

- impervious to: alarm clocks, hot sauce, French

- ability to soar horizontally through the air (only for short bursts and without the ability to land)

- unlimited Simpson's references

- conjure invisible air guitar

- can hide a Canadian quarter in my right nostril

- third degree black belt in making girls feel weird

- ability to drop a "that's what she said" after absolutely any statement made about anything at any time

- advanced barbecue wizardry

- conjure awkward silence

- inability to perform reverse psychology

- spontaneous uncontrollable sneeze attacks

lawsuit pending

warning labels.
promoting safety? not so much.
protecting massive companies from getting sued by opportunistic morons?
bingo.
or maybe, just maybe, people really are that stupid.
that sticker on your lawnmower that tells you not to put your hand on the spinning blade may seem kind of unnecessary. but perhaps people are practicing this. why? who knows. they're idiots. and idiots are unpredictable.
you know when you buy new sneakers and there's that little packet of silica gel that says 'do not eat'? if it didn't say that, would you be inclined to actually try some silica gel? "hey! my new Pro Keds came with this weird packet of granulated chemicals. i should probably eat some."
me no think so, Tim.
but maybe it's these very warnings that are encouraging people to risk personal health and safety for that sweet sweet negligence claim.
maybe it's human nature (or at least moron nature) to do exactly what we're told not to.
for example: let's say a bottle of window cleaner came with a warning that states 'not for use on babies'. i'd say it's only a matter of weeks before some yokel brings his or her crying but gleaming infant into the emergency ward wondering what possibly could've gone wrong.
people should know better.
fact! people do not know better.
a bottle of motor oil that says 'poisonous. flammable. delicious?'.
well...maybe it is, you know?
only one way to find out.
now if you'll excuse me, i'm going to go stare at the sun through a telescope while aiming fireworks at my face until those cans of forks are done in the microwave.

with grace

hey baby. let's bang.

that's crude. don't say it like that.

sorry. let us bang.

that's better.