Thursday, September 7, 2006

A Clarification

Well okay. Alright. Yes. It really is a picture of me. Sorry I lied about it. I don't know why I did. But I really do have only 5% body fat. What? Doesn't look like it? Hey, that's muscle, baby, pure muscle. All American Beefcake, that's me -- the meat is sweet and won't rot your teeth. Glim those guns, bo -- like steel cables. Afraid? I am so gorgeous. Yep, it's me, and pure rippling brawn. Really. No, really. Okay, maybe you're a little skeptical. Yeah, I suppose I might seem a little bloated. I, uh, got an infection and swelled up. I was injecting myself with, um, vitamin B and I dropped the hypo and neglected to sterilize it. Guess it'd been a while since I scrubbed the bathroom floor. So I'm a busy guy, so sue me. Don't you be giving me that look. My hygiene is flawless. You have the evidence before your very eyes, don't you. Don't you believe your eyes? Well I just feel sorry for you then. You smell like me in your dreams.

Yes, I am too blond. Oh, I didn't mean for that to sound like I was too blond. How would that be possible? I meant I'm blond. Just blond enough. Juuuust right. Like, like Baby Bear in Goldilocks. Who was blond, like me. Perfectly blond. Goldilocks I mean, not the bear. Who ever heard of a blond bear? I mean the forest kind of bear, not those hot gay bears at the sex clubs. And don't go thinking you're so clever calling me a bear, like I'm some big burly sexy gay fetishist or something. Not that there's anything wrong with it. Just not my scene, dude, is all. Nope. No. Not my bag. Wasn't my meaning at all, and frankly I'm a little disappointed in you for lowering the tenor of this conversation. Everything's the gutter with you. I don't know why I even bother. You are one sick dude, that's all I have to say about it. Sick sick sick. Sicko. In need of serious help. No wonder you can't sleep. All that whining about all that stuff you love to whine about. Boo hoo. Yeah, we're all really impressed. You're so deep. Waaaaa.

No, not blonde. That's for girls. Do I look like a girl to you? Is that what you think girls look like? Then I just pity you. And it's not a beard. I don't have a beard -- a big black sexy hairy beard. That's, um, like a chin strap or something. Yeah. Or maybe it's a shadow. Shadows can be very complex, you know. They're mysterious. Nobody knows what causes them or where they come from. Don't you be shaking your head like that. I'm not your ear wax. Maybe it's a tattoo. I could have a tattoo. I never said I didn't, did I? Like, uh, a temporary tattoo on my face, like clown makeup. Maybe it was a party. And I have a huge tattoo of a scary red dragon all across my back. It's so cool! So what? What's so wrong about that? Are you my judge? Well golly Mother Superior I sure do hope I'm living up to your high standards. As if.

Or maybe it's, like, black shaving cream. Hey! Wow, what a far out idea! I bet nobody ever thought of that before. I bet Ron Popeil would love that far out idea. Don't you go stealing it. That's it baby, I'm gonna make MI££ION$ of DO££AR$ with this I bet!!! Best idea ever. Black shaving cream. OH! and it tastes like licorice!! Oh man it just gets better and better. Now where's that 900 number, the one for the invention company. Haven't heard back from them about my home tongue-splicer kit. Bifurcated tongues are so hot! They better not have ripped me off. Like Books on Tape. That was my idea. Or the jockstrap.

Well, that just about covers it then. We've found out that you like to lie about people's appearance, and that you're heavy into some furcking kinky shirt, and take steroids and have an ear infection and listen to pornography CDs. Dude, you really need help. It's kind of pathetic, really. I pity you.

Okay. Sorry. It's not me. I don't know why I said it was.


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