Bad-assery.

The other day I walked up to a beefy ex-con and bit through a quarter, flexed, punched a woman, kicked a puppy, drowned a kitten, lifted a car with each hand, wrestled a bear bare handed, broke a light saber over my knee, cut a laser in half with my hand, made time stop, spit in his face, jumped up and pulled an airplane out the sky just to name a few of the bad ass things I did. You may argure that everything I do is bad ass and you would be right.

All this was done to illustrate my bad ass-edness. After composing himself and swapping out his crap and urine filled undies for a fresh pair, he told me he had never met a bad ass like me and swore his allegiance to me for the rest of his mortal life. I told him that won’t be necessary because me being such a bad ass means that I would have no need for him other than managing my fan club. I don’t need a bunch of little jerks running around getting in my bad ass way.

P.S. Sorry to the quarter, woman, puppy, kitten, bear, light saber, etc. It wasn’t anything personal. You were simply needed to illustrate a point. Thanks for your help and sorry for ruining your life. If it makes you feel any better, it made me feel good doing it. I knew you’d understand.