Well, at least I think I’m funny.

White Dade has tagged me for filling out the following survey. Get ready for a wild ride.

1) What were you doing 10 Years Ago?
Swimming from the Grecian Isles to Indo-China where my long lost love, Pang Qi (Ch-ee) awaited me with open arms, a gun, 6 packs of matches, 3 children (1 of them mine) a dog, and a talking Giant Panda named Sunkist who can ride a tricycle and pee in a perfectly straight line.

2) 5 Years Ago?
This was my third year anniversary of having entered into that beard and moustache growing society. I ended up being kicked out because I illegally used Chia-pet solution on my face in order to grow a more outrageous beard and or moustache than anyone ever had in the history of growing beards (and or moustaches). The reason I say and or is because I hadn’t decided on exactly how I’d style it, so my face was just covered with Chia-sprouts. I looked like the Wolfman’s face…only covered in broccoli instead of hair. They coined a term after this fiasco and now it is referred to as Chiating.


3) 1 Yeat Ago?

Well its difficult for me to measure the exact time this refers to as, I’m sure we all know, a Yeat is one year in the life of the average Yeti. Because of the advanced brain structure of the Yeti (which is necessary for their tremendous hair growth) experts estimate one Yeat to equal roughly 2.76 years. This of course places me in transition between State College and Miami (either mentally or both physically and mentally). So I’d have to say that one Yeat ago I was…well that’s actually funny. I was tracking Yeti. That’s when I met the head Yeti, Yetster (their names are uncomplex when translated to English from Yetilian) and when he first informed of the scientific conclusions about the conversion of their time periods to ours. Man I am glad I did that, otherwise this post would’ve made no sense.

4) Five snacks you enjoy:

1. Babies - They’re crunchy AND soft. 2. Cereal in those little plastic containers (typically stolen from babies I have eaten) 3. Moose Jerky
4. Garlic Bread
5. Toe Jam

5) Five songs I know by heart but wish I didn’t:
1. The McDonald’s Menu song from 1988.
2. Im Wonderschoenen Monat Mai
3. Wheels on the Bus
4. Posion - Bel Biv Devoe
5. I’m not sure the name of it, but it summons the Devil, and he is a jerk (though he throws a mean BBQ).

6) Five things I would do with a LOT of money:

1. Buy the internet and have all the porn I could ever want!
2. Rent a car just so I could crash it - do this a lot, put Enterprise out of business.
3. Go to outer space on that civillian space flight just so I could say “I can see my house from here!” or “man it sure is spacious out here.”
4. Buy the moon, turn it into a liveable planet. Populate it. Make Earth my sworn enemy. Attack!
5. Put it in a bank. Then try to rob the bank for sport.

7) Five things I would never wear:

1. A bear suit. It’s too much to risk getting humped by a real bear just for some cheap laughs.
2. A chair.
3. A lamp.
4. A microwave.
5. A desk.

8) Five things I should never have worn:

1. My Book-it! Button.
2. My fake Hitler moustache.
3. My real Hitler moustache.
4. That My Little Pony band-aid of my sister’s - now I’m freakin’ hooked on them! They’re such little ponies!
5. That damn bear-suit

9) Five things I enjoy doing:

1. Whiffle ball against little kids - man do they suck.
2. Racing old people.
3. Peeing
4. Heightening my awareness in order to better my life, and those around me.
5. Boobies. I know it’s not an activity, but they’re great.

10) Five bad habits:

See my post about this.

11) Five people that must fill this out:

1. Benjamin Franklin
2. Scott Baio
3. Judas Priest
4. Franklin
5. Gordon Shumway

Like the predicatable tickings of a large, yellow, digital clock, that boops and beeps with every passing second, time was bound to bring along a Hatred. A Hatred like this is unlike other hatred. This Hatred is unique in that it makes others hate as well. Luckily, the hatred created by this Hatred is focused back on itself like so many laser-beams in a fun house, or so many cans of rolled-around soda exploded in the faces of bullies who stole them from nerdy kids brave enough to fight back.

I’m sorry, I apologize for the grotesque imagery, but maybe once I explain what I’m talking about my rage can be understood. It recently came to my attention that someone was bashing Jack Bauer. Now, normally I’d let Jack settle this matter himself, but since JB does everyone a favor every year and works 24 hours around the clock saving America from certain doom, I figured I’d get his back on this one…I’m sure he has a lot going on right now anyway.

Some speculation has arisen about Jack Bauer’s existence; that he may or may not be fictional. I’d like to address this point first. The truth is Jack Bauer is more real than any other man to ever have walked the earth including Jesus, Frank Stallone, and What’s Happenin’s own Fred Berry. He is also certainly more a real influence on peoples’ lives than this jerk will ever be.

The critic in question hates hero worship and says it’s all about self-esteem…I guess he makes a good point, except his entire blog is about how he can only bag fat chicks, dates emotionally unstable strippers, and is incredibly unhappy with Miami and life in general(yet does nothing about it but have sex with more fat chicks). Not to mention it’s basically an online diary. Nice work Sally. The last time Jack Bauer complained was when he was crying at birth after the doctor slapped him. Then he shot the doctor in the leg and went out hunting terrorists.

Even though there really is no need to prove anything for people to know I’m right, for nonsensical humor’s sake I’ve decided to come up with a few scenarios and drop White Dade in them first, then Jack Bauer. Let’s see who comes out on top.

Editors notes: When you read the voice of Jack Bauer, you need to imagine his voice as the sound of someone who has been shouting all day at a football game, smoked 15 cigarettes the night before, had a few beers, gotten very little sleep, and eaten 36 bullets washed down with gun oil. White Dade should be imagined as a real dopey, backwoods, baritone, “I’m fascinated by sticks” voice.

Scenario: Grocery Shopping

We find White Dade at a Publix in Miami. They appear to be out of milk…

WD: Oh man, they’re out of milk! Shucks! Wellba, I guess I’ll just go ask the manager…there he is. Hey buddy, looks like we’re out of milk.

Manager: Yeah, we actually just got it in, but it’ll be about 25 minutes until the stockboys put it back on the shelves if you don’t mind waiting.

WD: Ah gee, I have a date with a fat girl but…. I guess I could wait. My crabs is itchin’ real bad though.

Manager: God, why would you tell me that? (The store manager stifles his vomit as he dashes towards the back of the store)

25 Minutes passes…

WD: Finally, milk! Man, that sure sucked. I can’t wait to get home to my computer and write about how annoying this was in my online diary. Whooa–!

WD trips, falls, and bursts his carton of milk everywhere. He tries to stand up but keeps slipping. He makes one last go of it and nearly makes it, but his feet shoot out in front of him and he does a headplant onto the tile of the supermarket floor, splitting his head open and instantly killing him.

Now let’s see how Jack Bauer does…

We find Jack at a Trader Joe’s in Los Angeles, they appear to be out of milk…

JB: Excuse me, sir. Where is the milk?

Man: I don’t work he– (BANG!)

JB: I didn’t ask if you worked here. I asked where the milk was. Where is it?

Man: I - I don’–

JB: If you say I don’t know, I am going to make this as painful as possible. Where is the milk!!

Man: I SAW THEM PULL THE TRUCK UP WHEN I WAS COMING IN THE STORE! IT SHOULD BE IN THE STORE SOON!

JB: How long?

Man: 25 minutes?

JB: That’s not fast enough. (Jack coshes the man with the butt of his gun rendering him unconcious and rushes out back. There he spots two store clerks lazing about, smoking cigarettes.)

JB: Freeze! CTU! (the cronies stare at Jack like deer in headlights) Step away from the truck! Do not attempt to fle– (one of the stockboys, terrified and confused at why a gun would be pulled on him for delivering milk, takes off. Jack quickly shoots him twice the leg. He falls to the ground grasping his injured leg and cries out in pain. Jack closes in on the truck. He grabs a carton of milk, keeps his gun aimed at the remaining stockboy’s forehead, and slowly backs to his car. He peels out and speeds off.)

Situation 2:

We find White Dade at a bar…

Fat Girl: Hey dreamboat, you’re HOT.

White Dade: I know. So are you.

Fat Girl: Thanks! Wanna makeout in public?

White Dade: Sure.

(They leave and do it. Gross. On the drive home, White Dade is hit by a car and dies painfully.)

We find Jack Bauer at a bar…

Fat Girl: Hey dreamboat, you’re HOT!

Jack Bauer: …

Fat Girl: Did you hear me? I said you’re hot!

Jack Bauer: …

Fat Girl: What? Are you not ta-

(Jack gets up and walks to another area of the bar.)

Hot Girl: Hello, you smell great, is that your aftershave?

JB: That’s probably the kerosene I used to rinse my mouth out this morning. Or it could be the patriotism oozing out of me. I’m not sure which. Maybe it’s a mix, who knows.

Hot Girl: oh wow, your voice sounds gravelly, you don’t smoke do you?

JB: No. I yell at terrorists and non-compliers a lot. I also ate some barbed wire with my cereal this morning.

Hot Girl: Do you want to go somewhere an-

JB: Yes. Question, do you have a shower?

Hot Girl: Yeah, why?

JB: Because after I bang your brains out I’m going to need get back to CTU immediately, and I still have some blood of people I’ve shot throughout the course of the day on me. Does your shower go over one thousand degrees?

Hot Girl: God no! That’d kill you.

JB: Is it supposed to? I never noticed. Oh well, a cold shower is better than no shower. Let’s go.

(They leave and do it. Awesome. On the way home Jack kills several terrorists.)

Situation 3:

This one is a bit different. It includes both characters.

We find White Dade in a section of the Miami Airport. Jack Bauer is in the ventilation system because he knew terrorists would be taking over this wing of the airport.

White Dade: Buuh, I can’t remember what flight I’m supposed to be on. Maybe I’ll ask this lady at the desk (White Dade walks to the nearest garbage can and begins asking it questions. Terrorists then charge into the terminal).

Terrorist 1: INFIDELS! We are now in control of this section of the airport! Follow directions and you will not be harmed…as long as your President complies to our demands!

WD: Uh oh! (he runs and screams like a woman and trips right into one of the terrorists. The terrorist grabs him, puts a gun to his head, and asks him how much faith he has in his government). Whatever! I have faith in myself. I am awesome! Do you know how many fat girls I’ve had sex with? A lot. Any second now I’m going to do a sweet move to get out of this. (he struggles vainly and is unable to improve his situation).

Terrorist 2: Apparently your move was peeing, and then pooping, in your pants.

(Meanwhile, Jack has already disabled the perimeter terrorists. 5 Terrorists remain. As he’s sneaks up and puts the sleeper hold on one of the remaining terrorists, Terrorist 1 attends to his phone as it rings…)

Terrorist 1: Understood. Terrorist allies! Apparently there is an agent in the airport named -

Jack Bauer: Jack. Fucking. Bauer.

(Terrorists 3 and 4 turn to open fire on Jack but he’s two fast. They each have two bullets in their heads and quickly drop to the ground. Terrorist 1 grabs a hostage and he and Terrorist 2 face Jack.)

Terrorist 1 (holding a woman): Well Jack, it appears we have a standoff. Perhaps your president will comply with our wishes.

Jack: I don’t think he’s going to have to.

Terrorist 2: Please! We know you wouldn’t risk human life! We have two hostages!

Jack: Let the woman go, you’ll still have a hostage be able to negotiate.

(Terrorist 1 let’s his hostage go, she hits the deck with the remaining people in the terminal)

Terrorist 1: There, I’ve done as you said. Now, let’s begin our nego-

(Jack quickly shoots White Dade and both Terrorists in the head).

Jack: Everyone, the terrorist threat has been eliminated.

Citizen 1: But you shot that gu-(BANG!) Shit my leg! Damnit! Ouch (he makes a sound like sucking in the letters “sh”).

Jack: You’re welcome.

(Jack tosses his gun to a nearby child who brandishes it and grins. Jack then jogs down to the end of the terminal, leaps from one of those collapsable tunnels to the tarmac, runs to the nearest helicopter, coshes the pilot, and takes off.)