Watching the olympics makes me realize just how stupid some sports are judged.  Basing who the better athlete is by a set of scores that a judge (or group of judges) gives seems rather arbitrary.  I don’t know, … maybe I just like things to be more absolute, more clear cut.  I just wish that some sports were judged so that there is no question as to who the real winner (better athlete) is.  So if anyone from the olympic committe is reading this post, please take note, I will give some suggestions, haha.

Gymnastics:   I think gymnastics would be much more clear cut if they made the sport somewhat resemble the rules of HORSE.  Or like a multi person Zoolander-esque “walk off.”  One guy does a tripple flip, the next guy has to do a tripple flip in order to qualify for the next round.  If he can’t do it, then he’s eliminated.  At the end, the best gymnast is the one that can do the most impressive moves.

Swimming:  Can you really declare someone a faster swimmer than someone else if the margin of difference is only .001 seconds?  Hell, … that difference could simply be that one guy had longer fingers then the next.  For some reason it sits uneasy in my stomach that one person can go home with the gold metal by beating someone by .001 of a second.  .001 seconds is like less than half the time that it takes you to fucking blink.  How can you call someone the winner if he wins by that small of a margin?  I say you need to make sure that the margin of victory is larger.  Hence, if two people are less than a half a second apart, I say the two people have to do race again until one person beats the other person by more than .5 of a second.  Kind of like tennis where you have to win by two.

Boxing:  Fuck the judges with their round scoring.  None of that matters.  If you are a boxer, you are there to knock the guy out.  That’s it.  Who cares about the points?  In a heavyweight fight, one guy can be killing the next guy for 5 rounds, but then with one punch, the guy that’s been losing all along can end up winning.  So why bother with points?  Just have the winner be the last man standing.  It doesn’t matter how long it takes.  You just keep going until someone gets knocked out, or someone gives up.  That’s it.  Trust me, … someone will eventually get knocked out or someone will eventually give up.  Yeah yeah, … some of you pansies may argue that that would be too harsh and that people can die from over exertion, blah, blah, blah.  Whatever, … you’re a fucking boxer.  That’s an assumed risk.  Besides, … I say if you’re too stupid to not know when to quit, then you’re too stupid to live.

OK, … that’s all I have so far.  Bah, … like it matters, … even if I think of more, I know I’ll be too lazy to add to the list anyways. 

In the past few years, I’ve been noticing that chicks tend to get less and less excited about their birthdays.  When chicks start hitting the 25 and over age, it seems to me that every passing birthday to a chick marks yet another defeat in their continual losing battle with Mother Nature for eternal youth.

What was once, “YAY!  I’m 21 years old!  Let’s get hammered!!” turns to “oh, … I really don’t feel like doing anything special this year.”

Oh come on now, … sure, … with another year, you have a few more wrinkles on your face, your boobies aren’t as perky, your ass is a little bigger, you start developing that wobble on your tricep area of your arms, that FUPA (Fatty Upper Pussy Area aka “ddong beh” in korean) keeps growing, and your biological clock ticks louder and louder.

Sure, … I can see how you chicks may not want to look forward to yet another birthday.  Hell, … I’ll understand if you chicks get a bit ornery, even a bit depressed.

BUT, …on the brighter side of the situation, … doesn’t all this create a great reason to drink your sorrows away with your closest of friends?

And with that being said, … HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAM!!!!

Just your average IT guy by day, … but superhero-in-training by night!

Look!  It’s “Handi-Boy!!!”

“Never underestimate the power of the handicapped!”

No, this is not a pic of me.

Pic courtesy of Mahkoo.

So it’s been over a year now that I’ve been on this whole xanga thing.  Since the beginning, me and my friends have gotten immense pleasure in berating each other with each and every new post.  Nothing too mean, … just the usual childish name calling crap, like “stop being such a homo,” “stop eating you fat fuck,” “stop molesting little boys.”

This is nothing out of the ordinary for me and my friends, as we have always enjoyed making fun of each other, especially outside of xanga.  If you’ve hung out with us, you’ll know what we’re talking about.  So naturally, why should xanga be any different? 

In the beginning, ridiculing comments were limited to the target’s page.  If someone would write something stupid like admit that they like celine dione, or criticized girls for their sense of style in their shoe selection, … he was labeled a homo.  Or, … if you put things in the wrong context, … like if Kai119 is talking about playing poker, and saying something like “Joji went all in on me and got raped, …” you’re just asking for it.  (Too bad that I didn’t pick up on that one that day, … how annoying.)  Or if Segene is talking about how he choked while drinking a glass of water by saying “… I choked, and it sprayed out all over my face, …” how am I to resist??

But as we kept going, … things got worse.  We started incorporating insults into our own posts.  References, links, entire posts, were dedicated to making fun of each other.  But it didn’t stop even there.  Things progressed now to a point where I’m finding insults about me in other peoples’ comments sections.  The post will be about something random like how the white rhino is almost extinct, … and yet my retard friends will find a way to relate that topic to calling me a homo.  I bet you I’ve only caught like half of the random insults about me that my friends leave on other people’s xangas.

Sure, … all this is fun.  But I’ve realized something.  All this nonsense has turned all of us into evil, evil people.  I feel like we’re like a bunch of friggin coyotes foaming at the mouth when one of us makes a new post.  Looking for a good opening to exploit.  Reading every phrase carefully to see if you can take it out of context.  Hell, … I don’t even care about what anyone has to say at this point.  I just want to make fun of them.

“YES, … Segene has just posted again!  MUAHAHAHA, … how can I make fun of him today??”

It has also made me paranoid.  As I write a post, … I find myself scanning through my choice of words and editing my content, to thwart easy insults that my feeble-minded friends and readers may think of.  

And this leads to xanga becoming less about expressing your opinions, and more about making fun of my friends.  Now, … is that necessarily a bad thing?  No.  As I hardly ever take anything seriously, … I think joking around makes your day go by faster and makes things more enjoyable.  However, … I do enjoy an occasional change of pace.  So, … for a couple of days, … I shall leave only non-insulting posts and comments.  Well, … at least let’s see how long I can last.

**EDIT***

You people take me waaaay too seriously.  Obviously, I don’t have chicks throwing their panties at me.  I mean, … sure, … I’m ridiculously good looking (heh heh), … but I am not a rock star (that is when I’m not kereoking), nor am I a famous celebrity.  So to have a random chick throw her underwear at me would be ridiculous.

To clarify, … no chick has ever thrown their panties at me.  When I asked the chicks out there to refrain from throwing their underwear, it was merely a joke.  Obviously not a good one.  But on a side note, … I bet you a Steven Tyler has panties thrown at him every day.  Hell, … I bet you even fucking William Hung gets a few victoria’s secrets tossed at him on occassion.

***********************************************************************

Why do chicks throw their panties?  This is something that I’ve never fully understood.  Sure, … I understand that if a chick does this to you, then that’s her way of telling you that she wants to fuck you.  I don’t know, … maybe other guys out there find this act appealing, … but me, … I find it absolutely retarded.

Cuz the way I see it, … throwing dirty underwear at someone is NOT a good thing.  I don’t care how clean you are, or how hot you are.  If you are just a random chick, and you take off the stanky ass underwear that you’ve been sweating in, farting on, festering your juices in, all day and decide to throw that shit at me??

Fuck that.  Homey don’t play that.

Shit, … I’d get so disgusted, … you’d better start running cuz if I catch you, I’ll take off my boxers and make you wear that shit over your head for the rest of the day.  Don’t worry, … you’ll be able to see through the pee hole.  HAHA.

But seriously, … I want to know what demented chick ever thought to do this to begin with.  Why in the world would the thought of taking off your panties and throwing it at someone even come up?  I would think a nice cardboard sign would be a much more effective method in telling someone you want to fuck them.  No?  I mean, … if I find a chick hot, … the last thing I’d want to do is throw my nasty ass boxers with skid marks at her??  Ok fine, … just kidding about the skid marks. 

But not only this, … think about when this shit first started.  Now, … back in those days, … I don’t think thongs or g-strings were predominant.  Although I am not a lingerie historian, I’m assuming that those types of underwear probably didn’t even exist back then.  So basically, the first chick that ever did this probably threw a pair of grandma panties that resemble a pair of small men’s tightie whities.  I’d imagine that the first guy this happened to must have been like “what the fuck?”  He was probably a rockstar, … or some smooooth cat like Billy Dee Williams, and he’s just on stage or just walking down the street, and some random chick just chucks her dirty underwear at him.  His initial reaction was probably, … “EWW!”  Especially when he saw those grandma panties catch air.  HAHAHA!

Now don’t get me wrong.  This is not to say that I don’t like chicks in lingerie.  Of course I do.  And I think I’m just as horny as the next guy.  Actually, … who the fuck am I kidding, … I’m a fucking pervert.  BUT, … I’d imagine that I’d find absolutely no pleasure in touching and handling the nasty ass underwear of random chicks that you have no relation with, whatsoever.  Kind of like going to one of those vending machines that sell used chicks’ underwear in Japan.  Now this is something I’ve never understood for the life of me.  First, what are you going to do with it once you get it?  Sniff it?  Lick it?  Ugh!  And second,  unless you’re jay321 who likes to wear women’s panties, … what the hell do you do with it after you’ve done whatever it is you did?  What a waste of money!  Such silly people they are, … those Japanese, HAHA!

So this morning, I get this email from my buddy Eric.  For a little background on Eric, I mentioned him in one of my previous xanga posts back from my old page.  I’ve cut and pasted the section that mentions him: 

“I have this friend Eric, … who we always make fun of, cuz he’s really absent minded.  I mean, … the guy will park his car, … and forget where he parked it.  He called the police the first couple of times because he thought it got stolen, … only to realize that the police would call him back telling him that his car wasn’t stolen, but is safely parked in another street.  So these days, … if he forgets where his car is, … he’ll just give up looking for it and just walk.  Eventually, after a couple of days, he runs into his car parked on the street while walking around the neighborhood.  He also has this problem of going to the supermarket and taking other people’s shopping carts by mistake thinking that it’s his.”

So anyways, … here’s the email I got this morning:

***************************

Well I’m certainly glad that you found a new hobby. <***I mentioned in a pervious email that I’ve been going to the range a lot these days***> Funny you should mention golf though.  A buddy of mine growing up lost his brother to cancer about two weeks ago.  The day after the funeral, I get a call from Mike saying that we should really take this kid out, get his mind off things, etc.  So I say sure, set something up.  So he gets a tee time for the three of us.  Great.  We go out and I insist that we get a cart.  Mike says no, he’d rather walk, carts are for pussies…. Seriously, it’s golf- fuck off.  So me and the other kid get a cart and let’s just say I was driving the thing a little erratically, took a rather sharp turn, and well, the kid falls out of the cart and separates his shoulder.  Had to spend the rest of the day in the hospital.  Then had to bring him home to his parents place where his mom, still grieving from the death of her first son, had to deal with her injured second son by going beserk on me while I stared at the ground shaking my head muttering, “I’m so sorry Mrs. Tung….”

Anyways, golf sucks.  No offense.  The carts moreso.  Most poorly engineered fucking things…

*********************

The kid just cracks me up!!  God bless him, …

I swear, … you chicks crack me up.  I mean, … you chicks sit there and complain about how men give you so much grief, such heartache, such pain and anguish, … yadda yadda yadda, … but if you look at the picture closely, … it’s not really men, … you chicks complain because you are all a bunch of masochists. 

Yes.  All of you.  In one way or another.  You chicks are all gluttons for punishment.  You ask why so?  Well, I’ll tell you why.  Now, … let’s forget about the retarded chicks that stay with a guy that beats her, cheats on her, etc.  We can just blame emotional instability, or lack of brain cells, … whatever.  Instead, … let’s just look at the most commonplace things for answers.  The most basic of things. 

Take for example something really elementry, as a pair of shoes.  So last week, I’m hanging out with this chick and she’s complaining about how much her feet hurt because of these new shoes that she bought.  Sure, … we’ve all had that problem before.  You wear a new pair of shoes and you get a little blister in the back of your ankle or something like that.  I can relate. 

But then, I look at her feet, and HOLY SHIT!  Her feet were all sorts of fucked up with blisters on her toes, heels sides, everywhere!  

*****I actually did a google image search to illustrate bisters on feet, … but the pictures that it pulled up were just tooo fucked up.  Those of you guys that know me will know how easily grossed out I get when it comes to feet, and so you know why I couldn’t bear to post pics like that on my page, even despite the fact that it would be at someone else’s expense.  HAHA!*****

So anyways, … I see these blistered mangled ass feet of hers and am like, … “HOLY SHIT, …. why are you wearing shoes that hurt so friggin much??  Don’t wear those shoes anymore!”

And you know what her reply was?  “It’s ok, … I just have to break them in.  They’ll be fine once I break them in.”

ARE YOU SERIOUS??  Am I the only person that thinks that’s ludacris?  I don’t care if those shoes cost three hundred somewhat dollars and are from Channel or Gucci or whatever.  If those shoes make your feet look like that after you wear them, then you should NOT be wearing them.  In fact, … you should take those shoes back to the store and tell them that they fuck up your feet.  If they give you a hard time, … show them your mangled ass feet and I’m sure they’ll understand!

Think about it.  That’s just like me voluntarily asking someone to punch me in the face repeatedly and then saying “oh, … it’s ok, … I just have to get used to the pain and I’ll be fine.  It’s worth it cuz I paid the nice, large fisted man three hundred dollars to do so.” 

You see what I’m saying?  OK, … still not convinced?  Take haircuts for another example.  I remember a few years ago, another chick I know decided to get a perm.  So excitedly, she goes to the hair salon, pays like $100 or some ridiculous amount.  And what happens, … she comes out BAWLING! 

“WAHH WAHH WAHH WAHH!!!  I LOOK LIKE A FRENCH POODLE!!  WAHH WAHH!!”  And she goes home and dunks her hair under a bathtub filled with water and proceeds to wash her hair twenty times over again.

Now, … normal people would be like, … shit, … bad haircut.  Won’t do that again.  But chicks?  Fuck that.  A few years later, … 

Chick:  “Hmmm, … maybe I’ll get a perm.” 

Me:  “WHAT??  Are you serious??  Do you remember the last time you got a perm?”

Chick:  “I don’t know, … I think it’ll be different this time, though.”

Me:  “How the hell is it going to be different?  Did your face change over the past few years?  Did your eyesight change?  So then how in the world do you think that a perm look any different on you??”

And yet, … she’ll go ahead and do it anyways.  Almost like she needs another reason to cry her eyes out and be miserable for another few months until her perm washes out.

You need more examples?  What about those brazilian waxing things.  Man, … I pluck out a pube and I get all teary eyed.  How the hell are you going to sit there and wax that shit off, and THEN, … have some chick go at all the loose pubies with a friggin tweezer?  Can we all say a collective, O-U-C-H??!!

See, … this is what I’m saying.  You chicks act love pain.  You must.  Or else why on earth would any sane person want to hurt themselves so badly?  You inflict so much pain on yourselves on a regular basis, it amazes me.  And this is why I think you chicks are so friggin crabby.  No wonder you chicks bitch about guys so much.  Hell, … I’d be crabby as hell if I went through all this unnecessary self-inflicted pain and anguish as you chicks do.  And I guess it’s only natural that you take it out on someone.  Much easier to do so than to take it out on yourself.  No?

So my point?  I’m just saying that if you chicks cut all this other unnecessary self inflicted pain out of your lives you’d all be much happier, jovial folk.  So the next time you feel all cranky and nasty, ask yourself, … are you really angry because he got piss drunk with his buddies?  OR, … is it because your feet are all mangled up, you look like a french poodle, and your cooch is puffy, red, and irritated.

You know what I realized the other day?  These days, … when you look around at all of these Hollywood superstars, you don’t have the classic “ladies man” anymore.

Now, this is not to say that there aren’t those “Hollywood Hunks” out there that’ll make little girls scream and Kai119 cream his pants.  That’s not what I mean at all.  I mean, … you got Tom Cruise (whose dick Segene can’t stop sucking), … Brad Pitt (that Marlen thinks is “mighty FINE”), … and Vigo Morrison (which Jay321 is the official secretary of his fan club).  Sure, … these guys are what you would call good-looking guys.  But they aren’t what you would call “smooooooooth.”  What I mean by “SMOOOOOTH” is that these guys aren’t the cool, suave, have the all ladies swoon after you, AND have all the guys respect and envy you type of guys.

See, … when I grew up (and this is something that my born in 1980 and up subscribers would have no idea what the hell I’m talking about) you had guys like Billy Dee Williams to look up to and be like, … as black people say, … “Yo man, … that’s one smoooooth cat!”  Come on now, … the man that can get dressed up in a fucking Tuxedo and drink a can of Colt 45 malt liquor and still be smooth as hell. 

Think about it.  The man had style.  The man had class.  I mean, … you think Tom Cruise can pull that off?  No fucking way.  You think Brad Pitt can sell Malt liquor and be able to hold his face up high?  Fuck that.  Even after Billy Dee did these ads, … chicks were still like “OH MY GODDD!! BILLY DEE!! BILLY DEE!!”  And they’d throw their panties at him as he’s walking down the street (throwing panties is something else that I’d like to discuss, but I’ll save that for another post). 

You can’t fuck with Billy Dee.  He is just a super classy, super smoooooth guy that gets ALL the chicks.  Period.  Plus, you’ll never hear any rumors about Billy Dee being gay, as is common with these other pretty boy Hollywood guys (ie Richard Gere, Keanu Reeves).  You know why?  Cuz Billy Dee is just too smooth for that.  He’s so smooth that even other guys can’t fuck with him.   And THAT’s the smooth that I’m talking about. 

Why do I bring this up you ask?  Because this post is for the kids.  Yes, … I’m doing this one for the kids.  See, … I’m finding that the kids these days have absolute shit to look up to.  What do you have, … a fucking metrosexual like Ben Affleck, oh, … I mean Bennifer?  A whining little weenie like Hugh Grant that gets caught with a nasty two bit hooker?  A guy that gets dressed in tights and plays an elf like Orlando Bloom?  I mean, … the closest thing that you have these days is Pierce Bronsan, but he doesn’t count because he only comes off that way because he’s ACTING the smooth ladies man role that I’m referring to.  Just because you play James Bond, doesn’t make you James Bond.  Besides, … he’s British and so he’s a weenie (HAHA!)

But getting back to my point, … is this what all the future ladies men of the world have as role models??  A fucking gay homosexual (not that there’s anything wrong with that) like Keannu Reeves?  What is the media doing to the future Casanovas of the world?  The future Don Juans?  Oh the travesties of this world!! 

So my message to you youngin’s out there, ….  Don’t look up to pansies like Ben Affleck, or else you’ll end up becoming fairies like these guys. 

Why?  Cuz Billy Dee says so.

So I’m in the car yesterday, flipping around to different radio stations, until I land on KTU (103.5FM).  They were playing this thing called “The War of the Roses” where they try to catch a guy cheating on his chick.  Has anyone ever heard of it before?

Well, … the premise of the show goes like this.  They call this guy up and tell him that he’s won a free dozen roses and asks who he wants them to send it too.  Bascially, if he sends the roses to his girlfriend, then he’s not cheating, but if he sends it to some other chick, then the girlfriend gets on the phone and bitches him out and embarrasses him over the radio.  Me being the gossip monger that I am (I swear, I turn into a middle school girl when I hear gossip.  “Really??  GET OUT!!”).

So getting back to the show, … they get this guy on the phone and this is what happens:

KTU:  “CONGRATULATIONS!  You just won a dozen free roses from freeroses.com!”

Guy:  “Oh word!  Get out!”

KTU:  “You’ve just won a special promotion and you can send these roses to anyone you want in the continental US!  Who would you like to send them to?”

Guy:  “Oh damn, … nice, … um, …. you know what, … can you send it to me?  I want to send it to myself.”

KTU:  “Uh, …. sure, … I guess.  What’s the address?”

Guy:  ” **** *** Street, … “

KTU:  “Uh, … would you like to send yourself a card?  The roses come with a free message as well.”

Guy:  “well, …. um, …. let’s see, … well, … ok.  Let me tell you what’s going on.  See, … there’s this little hottie in my office that I’m working on right now, … and so I just want you to send the roses to myself so that I can try to get her jealous and shit, … ‘na mean?  See, … I get the roses, … and I’m a be like, … yo, … did you send me these roses, … cuz I know you’ve been flirtin with me and shit, … and see, … that’s gonna be my way in.”

Girlfriend:  “YOU MOTHER-*BEEP*!  *BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!!*”

Guy:  “What the *BEEP*??  Who’s this?”

Girlfriend:  “It’s *BEEP* you small *BEEP* mother *BEEP*!  You’ve been set up and now you’re caught!”

Guy:  “Holy *BEEP* where you calling from?  My phone has caller ID.  Are you standing outside a pay phone pulling this *BEEP*?”

Girlfriend:  “Nevermind where I am you cheating *BEEP*”

So up to this point, … everything is going well.  I’m sitting in my car, …chuckling along, thinking, … “What a retard!  Ooooooh, … he’s gonna get it!!  Boy am I glad that I’m not him!  HAHA!”  But then, … the situation stopped getting funny and just got embarrassing.

Guy:  “You know what??  I’m glad you did this!  You classless *BEEP*!”

Girlfriend:  “You better be glad, .. cuz you gonna be glad by yourself!”

Guy:  “Who the fuck needs you anyways?!  You ugly and fat and your breath stinks!  I’m glad you did this cuz now I don’t need to come up with an excuse to dump your fat *BEEP*!”

<silence>

Guy:  “You classless *BEEP*, you don’t even got a real job, … you work part-time, … you standing out on the street from a pay phone calling a radio station?  You tacky *BEEP*, … you know what, … pull a rose out of that dozen and take it for yourself, .. that’s my going away present to you *BEEP*!”

<click>

KTU:  “Um, … well, … I’m glad you got that jerk out of your life.”

Girlfriend:  *trying to save face* “Yeah that cheatin son of a *BEEP*, …. “

And then it dawns on me.  What a stupid bitch!  You should have seen it coming!  It serves you right for trying something so stupid.  I mean, .. if you try to embarrass a guy that obviously doesn’t care about you (or else he wouldn’t have cheated on you to begin with), then what makes you think he’s not going to fire back at you to save face? 

If you’re going to pick a public forum like that to try and get even, … then realize that there’s a strong possibility that you’ll be embarrassed!  Think about it.  If someone tries to embarrass you, … wouldn’t your natural reaction be to do whatever you can to embarrass them back?  And if you’re the one that’s been cheated on, then you’re really not in all that great of a position to dish out any punishment because ultimately, you’re the one that’s been wronged.

Also, … if you suspect that boyfriend is cheating on you, then why the hell do you want to announce it to the world for?  Really, … is that going to make you feel better now that the rest of the free world knows that your man has been cheating on you?  Now I’m not saying that I condone cheating.  That’s not it at all.  As a matter of fact, I don’t think there’s really an excuse for that at all.  But, … what I am saying is, is that telling everyone and their mothers that someone cheated on you will only make people feel sorry for you.  Everyone always feels sorry for the dumpee, and not the dumper.  Sure, people may think, … “What a dick!”  Oooh, … big deal.   

Sure, … I feel sorry for the chick.  I feel sorry that she was too stupid to realize the consequences of her actions!  Whatever, … call me insensitive, … I don’t care.  Fuck you.

Fucking pigeons.  As you may know from Louisv4me’s site, … a fucking pigeon shat on me this morning.  I hate those fucking little rats with wings!!  Shit got all over the sleeve of my very nice Hugo Boss suit. 

You know what the shitty thing about pigeons is (no pun intended)?  You can’t even kill them suckers.  If someone catches you killing one, I believe the fine is like $10,000 or something like that.  Fucking tree huggers.

You know there’s got to be something wrong with the world when you can get fined like $10K for killing a fucking pigeon, yet it’s perfectly legal for you to shoot down a moose so that you can cut its head off and place it over your fucking mantle.  Hell, … they even call that a “sport” as Jay321 mentioned in a previous post.

But I digress, … my point for bringing up pigeons shitting on you is that when this happens, … if you are unlucky enough to get shat on, some idiot fucker will come by and say, … “Hey!  That’s good luck!”  Or, … “Hey!  That means you’re going to run into some money!”  Or some other retarded variation of the sort.  No, you moron, … you got shit on you.  That’s not a good thing.  It’s a very bad thing.  You now have to literally wipe shit off of you, get your suit cleaned.

When people say that to me, I always get annoyed.  What the fuck, … is that supposed to make me like getting shat on??  “OH YAY!!  I got shat on today!  It must be my lucky day!”  “You know, … I woke up this morning hoping that a disease infested creature will come by me and take a dump on me!  Now my day feels so fulfilled!  Oh pigeon shit, … you complete me!” 

Fucking retards.  Does that mean I can climb on top a tree, pull my pants down, take a dump on your head and you’ll like it?  Hell, … I’ll even throw some change at you to make that wives tale come true.  Look!   You ran into some money after all!

I want to know if there’s ever been a person out there, in this entire world that’s had good luck after they’ve been shat on.  And if one comes forward, I’ll call you an idiot for actually believing in such idiocy.  It’s called a coincidence you stupid fuck.  Coincidence.  I will guarantee you that you would have run into good fortune regardless of the fact that the pigeon shat on you.

Don’t get me wrong.  I know people are only saying that to make light of the situation.  To somehow make me feel better for having shit on my clothes.  I say, … spare me.  You insult my intelligence if you think that I’m actually going to believe in somthing so retarded. 

Yay!  Now I’m going to be a millionaire!