So I put the call out to the massive hive mind that is twitter(you may have heard of it) to give me some ideas regarding what I should write about. Since this blog really has no direction or content I figure it’d be the best way to at least kill some time without having to look at a bunch of penises. Since nobody famous replied to me about this I’m going to go with the first three suggestions that were given to me. Who knows I may even start doing this regularly so I can fill my mundane life with something other than email stalking Kristen Bell.*
So now that I’ve mentioned Kristen Bell at least once I’ll get on with the suggestions in the order that I felt like writing them in.
write about the Brian Williams summit.
Luckily this suggestion came with a youtube clip otherwise I would have no clue what this was about. I originally wanted to embed that clip in this post but since some dickbrain won’t allow me to embed I’m not really interested in talking about it. All I can figure out from watching 30 seconds of it on mute is that there are two men in the world with the same name who happen to be newscasters and this is somehow relevant to my interests.
Nobody under the age of 60 watches television news anyway so I’m pretty sure if you’re reading this you don’t care about it either so now we come to the next topic.
social media – friend or foe?
I would like you to write about how I got this scar, and why I make up a lie whenever anyone asks me. Also, include a car chase.
Finally something I can write about that involves no facts or opinions that could make me look dumb in the future.
In order to understand the scar we must first understand the society which created the circumstances that led to the scar.After a few thousand years of ruling the earth man has fallen prey to a dangerous virus which can only be treated by hourly injections of botox in the eyebrows. Needless to say this caused problems for many as they were unable to afford the botox or they forgot to carry it around with them at all times.
Thus began the Botulinum wars.
Part 3: The Desert Sun
CB was getting over the worst headache he’d had all day. The sun was just above his head as he was flying down the freeway 50 miles outside of Reno. What was once the biggest little city in the world had turned into a fortified city-state which embodied all the greed and callousness of it’s former occupation as a hub for those to cheap to bother with Vegas. The plague had not hit here as hard as other places since most of the cocktail waitresses and women of the night were already well stocked up on botox before patient zero walked out of that plane in Cancun.
But they still had to scavenge like everyone else.
CB had made a nice living for himself in these times. A disgraced navy seal who spent the last thirty years hauling dried pasta and canned asparagus across the continent. When the first reports of the sickness were coming in he was in the middle of Arizona with a full load on it’s way to Miami. He’d stopped out in the desert and awaited further news. Two weeks he spent living off the tins of tomatoes in his trailer. Once they announced that the cure was that shot of botox he decided to break into the lab in Phoenix and cart out as much of the stuff he could find. Since the entire city was wiped out by the virus already he didn’t have much trouble.
That was his first major score and he’d had at least 20 since then. Now on his way into Reno where the buyer was meeting him he was feeling a bit more anxious than usual. Raiders traveled all over these highways looking for shipments of just about anything. The police and the military had disbanded and there were no more producers. Humanity had become a species of scavengers and a man would slit your throat for a bag of BBQ peanuts. He’d managed to stay clear of most of the looters on his travels but this stretch was a bit too quiet for his liking.
He saw a pickup truck approach behind him. Through the dust he could count three, no make that four men with what appeared to be rifles, sticks or shotguns. They were still too far back to tell for sure. CB knew that his truck would have no chance of outrunning them so he slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road.
The strange truck pulled up next to him and front the front passenger window a small, elfish man with red hair and thin wrists pointed his shotgun at CB and asked what he had in the truck.
“Just an empty load here boss.”
“Bullshit. Nobody drives with an empty load nowadays.” said the ginger elf.
“I got robbed back in Utah. Bout 50 Mormons came charging in their special underwear and tied me to the roof of my cab. Cut my cheek up something fierce.”
Elf-man wasn’t impressed with this explanation and hit CB in the head with the butt of his shotgun. “We’ll just have a look for ourselves.” He dragged CB from the cab and took him to the back of the trailer.
CB obliged and up came the door revealing a full trailer of shrink-wrapped Botox. As the elf and his partner beside him stared in awe CB broke out his nunchucks and totally went Bruce Lee on their asses. He then threw a ninja star at the wheel on the Raiders truck and then totally flipped over and broke the driver’s neck. He ran back into his cab and bumped his head on the door which was going to leave a scar but he wasn’t going to tell anyone that since it’s kind of a shitty story.
Once he sped away he knew that it would only be a matter of time until the Elf and his buddy came to and would start chasing him so he went as fast as he could towards the heavily fortified walls of Reno. Just five miles outside of the city he saw the truck in his rearview mirror and this time they were shooting. He swerved back and forth to block them but they kept on his tail. Just then CB’s old friend from the navy totally jumped out of this helicopter with a bazooka and blew up the elf guy’s truck.
Shit was everywhere.