FIREBLIND.COM

Despite my wild imagination, everyone in the world does not read my blog, apparently. I blame me for not being funny, but mostly I blame you. I think we both know why.

For those of you not from California, there’s a place called Bakersfield, and then there’s a place called “everywhere else.” If you’re in Bakersfield, it doesn’t take you very long to get there. You could get in your car to drive to Bakersfield, but then you could get out again because you’re already there. So that’s cool. But, if you’re “everywhere else”, Bakersfield is in the middle of f’ing nowhere. You could be all like “hey, I’m going to Bakersfield and maybe I’ll get a burger when I’m there because I’m hungry” and then go get in your car and start driving. Unfortunately, you’ll starve to death before you get even half way because Bakersfield is in another dimension that takes a thousand years to get to and is inhabited by demons. Seriously, if you’ve never been to Bakersfield, don’t go. Tell your friends to go though, it’ll be funny. Especially if they don’t like demons.

Anyways, I drove to Bakersfield yesterday to go to a surprise birthday party for one of my closest friends. His birthday’s not until May, but we had it on April 12th anyways. Did I mention that besides being inhabited by demons and residing in another dimension, Bakersfield is also apparently in the middle of the sun? At first, I was “everywhere else” and I was comfortable and then my tires started melting and I realized that I was getting close.

What the heck was I talking about? Oh yeah, I know: you people didn’t listen when I told you that I was going to throw you to the lions when I was elected VP of the world in a few years. Because Bakersfield is in Thailand, I had a long time to observe the driving habits of my fellow man on the way out there. 80% of you drive kind of slow, 20% of you drive too damned slow, and the rest of you are dicks. I don’t understand why people have such a hard time realizing that cars and trucks are dangerous weapons.

Let’s say that you and I are hungry for a tasty fruit and yogurt parfait from McDonald’s, so we go to one near our house. Because my house is in the middle of the rain forest, I had to blaze a trail to the restaurant. While we’re eating I decide to show you what I looked like clearing a path to the Garden Grove McDonald’s. I take out my trusty machete and start pretending that I’m cutting down bushes and fighting off jaguars. No one else is in the joint besides you, me, a hot 17-year-old behind the counter who is trying to lure me to jail, and a family with some obese kids. I start playing the air-machete, and within 2 minutes a cop breaks through the door and shoots me in the face. Why did he do this? Probably because I was swinging a dangerous weapon around and the obese kids might have eaten it…or…something like that.

If, instead of fighting off jaguars I took the freeway to McDonald’s, I could drive my multi-thousand pound truck like an absolute madman, and no cops are going to shoot me in the face. The worst I could have done with my machete was kill or injure a small handful of people, but in my truck I have the power to wipe out whole families by making one wrong lane change. I pulled a kid out of an upside down car once after he hit 4 other cars, rolling one other besides his own. Fortunately, no one was killed, but he caused over $100,000 in damage to property and injured several other people, and all he got was a trial date, a $500 fine, and probation. Listen to me, you brain dead ass hole: your car is a deadly weapon. Slow the F down, make some decent lane changes, and turn down your Eminem. If I had it my way, I would shoot you in the face and save cops the trouble. Alas, my contract as a superhero with the government prevents me from killing civilians, so you’re off the hook…for now. At the moment I can only kill people who don’t speak God’s language (English), but that contract is up in 4 years. I swear by almighty Allah that I’m going to own a coliseum by then and I’m not going to feed my lions and tigers and bears until my contract is up. Oh my, are they going to be hungry.

(Yes, I did pull a muscle typing that last bit; thank you for asking.)