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"Now Significantly Older"
Now Playing: "Sundown" by Gordon Lightfoot
Today is a very special day, because it's the day I turn 22. Yes,
that means I'm old now. Old enough to drink. Old enough to vote. Old
enough to do pretty much anything, except rent a car in the state of
California, where apparently Avis won't talk to you unless you
qualify for the senior's discount. Anyhow, there's no way I'm
putting up with being old, giving up solid food and needing help
with my bowel movements, even if it means I get 10% off socks at
Wal-Mart on Tuesdays—which is why I've decided to
shuffle off this mortal coil
post-haste. Yes, that's right, this week I will be killing myself
live on Pointsincase. Tell all your friends. This is an Internet
first. Now you all have to help me decide what's the best way to
celebrate my birthday through anti-aging suicide. These are the
choices. Here's what happened:
-Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman
Overdose: Everybody knows Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman is the worst
show in the history of television, but few realize the adverse
effects that watching it can have on the human body. David Burns
from Pensacola, Florida was subjected to four hours of a Dr. Quinn
marathon on TNT and the next morning woke up with crabs. Patty Cline
of Athens, Georgia watched six back-to-back episodes her husband
accidentally taped while he was trying to record WWE Smackdown and
she's still on kidney dialysis. I will attempt to watch 24 solid
hours of that garbage, stopping only to
eat, sleep and vomit profusely. On
the off chance that I survive I have arranged for Jane Seymour to
personally come to my house and perform a hatchet lobotomy.
-Visit Unstable Dominatrix: Most of you probably know a
dominatrix or two who's lost her marbles. You know, one who ties you
up in her basement and wails on you for hours on end even though
you're not her client and she's already taken all your money. I will
seek out one such domme and submit myself to her every demand, no
matter how crazy, dangerous or ill-conceived it may be. She can put
needles in my scrotum, set my hair on fire, or break my knees with a
Louisville slugger. Whatever gets her off. As long as she doesn't
stick any live animals into my orifices. That's where I draw the
line. I'd like to die with dignity.
-Replace All My Ivy with Poison Ivy: I'm sure you've all
heard about my legendary ivy collection. My house is festooned with
ivy, inside and out. It's growing on the walls, the floors, this
keyboard; everywhere. However, I am prepared to destroy my
prize-winning ivy collection and instead begin a poison ivy
collection. The ivy necklace that I wear to work every day will be
retired, and I will begin wearing a much itchier variation. When I
go to bed, instead of the comforting feeling of ivy leaves wrapped
around my pillow, I will be subjected to poison of the iviest
variety. Eventually, I will scratch off all my skin attempting to
relieve the pain, and I'm pretty sure you need skin to live. Even if
you don't, I can't imagine surviving very long after drinking my
sixth bottle of calamine lotion.
-Attend Children's Spelling Bee: Some people are allergic to
bees. I am allergic to spelling bees. I cannot sit at a children's
spelling bee for longer than a few minutes before my muscles tense
up, my breath gets short, and I start huffing and wheezing. After
fifteen minutes, it takes all the effort in the world to keep from
shrieking out "POCOCURANTE isn't even a real word! You just made it
up for the bee! This is bullshit!" Sometimes it takes as many as
four spelling bee officials to tackle me to the ground and
force-feed my prescription medication. ("Z-O-L-O-F-T")
-Set Fire to IKEA: The IKEA chain of furniture stores combine
maze-like store layouts with merchandise made entirely out of
untreated wood. Should some mischievous hoodlum ever attempt to
start a fire inside an IKEA store, you can rest assured the fire
would spread in seconds and nobody would escape alive. Go to IKEA
and look for the emergency exits. Go ahead, try it. They're just
regular exits. Under this plan, I will sit in the very middle of an
IKEA maze and smoke a cigarette using an IKEA wooden ashtray. To
minimize the casualties this plan would necessarily entail, I will
post a sign saying, "This store will be set ablaze in half an hour.
Please exit by the nearest emergency exit if you wish to live."
Actually, better give them a whole hour.
-Fight a Vending Machine: A
few years ago three people died attempting to extract free soda from
pop machines. This caused an uproar in the vending machine
community. Pretty soon you couldn't walk past a vending machine
without giving it a suspicious look, as though it might attack at
any moment. Across America vending machines became the outlaws of
the automated food-service industry. People thought of them as
ne'er-do-wells, machines that might corner an innocent bystander in
an alleyway and rob him of his change, or perhaps set fire to an
IKEA. So the vending machines started wearing stickers: Stickers
that had a picture of a man fighting a vending machine, and the
vending machine clearly winning, and the whole thing had a diagonal
red bar through it as if to say "I am a good vending machine. I am
not here to hurt you. Do not be alarmed. Enjoy a soda." I will not
heed this warning, and will attempt to engage a Pepsi dispenser in
unarmed combat. Winner gets a free Diet Mountain Dew.
-Marry a Nigerian Millionaire: One of my favorite things to
do when I receive an email from a man posing as a Nigerian
millionaire in need of some assistance is to pose as a wealthy
debutante who would gladly marry a Nigerian she met over the
Internet. Under this plan, I will actually fly to Nigeria to meet
and marry this supposed millionaire. Before I go, I will sell all my
worldly possessions, and then donate my money to charity ("Nigerians
in Need"). When my fiancé finds out I'm not really wealthy or a
debutante, he will probably resort to some sort of petty Nigerian
revenge, such as murder or limb removal. Even if he doesn't, I'll
still be stuck in Nigeria, which, judging by the emails I get, is
slightly worse than being dead.
-Dance Dance Revolution Party: The hit videogame Dance Dance
Revolution has actually been added to the Guinness Book of World
Records under the title "Lamest Videogame Ever." Under this plan I
will host a party and when people get to my house they'll ask, "Hey,
where's the beer?" and I'll respond, "There is no beer. But I do
have Dance Dance Revolution." At this point I will find out exactly
how far one can fit a Playstation up my rectum. If I do attempt to
compete at DDR I will immediately be stabbed to death by an Asian
gang. And no, I'm not bitter about this just because only Koreans
are good at the game. You don't see me making the same sort of jokes
about math class, do you?
-Vacation in Najaf: I've already told you that
Iraq is one of this summer's vacation hotspots
but what you probably didn't know unless you watch Fox News is that
there's a mosque in Najaf that you absolutely must see if you feel
like ending your life. Actually, seeing a mosque ought to make
anyone want to end their life, because those things are—pardon my
cultural insensitivity—more retarded than a Special Olympics track
meet. Anyhow, the American military has decided not to invade the
Najaf Mosque and kill everyone inside because they don't want to
cause an international incident. Fair enough. So instead, they've
surrounded the mosque with more weapons of mass destruction than
there were in Iraq than before the war and refuse to let anyone in
or out. Good call guys. Now the integrity and sanctity of the mosque
is preserved, and life can go on as usual. Right. I'm pretty sure
nobody will be using that mosque for prayer anytime soon. Might as
well blow the fucker up. Just make sure I'm in it first.
-Suicide Wings Buffet: Quote of the Moment: One of my
friends, at an all-you-can-eat chicken wing buffet: "How come they
don't make wings spicier than suicide flavor. Is it because they
don't have a name for them? I guess the only thing spicier than
suicide wings would be homicide wings. Man I would kill for some of
those right now." Take me. Take me.
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