An Awesome Confession · 4:27pm Mar 25th, 2014
As the last piece of lasagna fell down my throat (and partially on my pants, because I never really mastered the art of chewing things) today, I had a vision. I saw myself unable to write for a long time, as my arm is far worse than expected. My tendon went pop, an everything from the elbow to my fingers can’t move. The only way to solve this is with a sling and the hardest drugs the doctor could give me. Really. Before taking one of those pills I need to eat a ton of food, or else I might puke blood. Isn’t it wonderful? Isn’t that what you ask your medicine to do? Bloopuke?
So anyway, I can’t write, and I won’t be able to do so in a while. And I think that I owe you an explanation. The reason why my arm is injured is not the one I said in my last blog.
It’s far more awesome. I was just trying to protect you, because after reading what happened you’ll get such a testosterone rush you’ll grow a mustache in your chest and your voice will drop seven octaves. Especially if you’re female.
So, what happened? I was just walking around Death Mountain, which is actually a volcano. A poisonous volcano, filled with smaller volcanoes that are also poisonous. It’s like walking though Australia, but far less dangerous.
Anyway, so there I was, dancing at the beat of the jungle’s heart (everybody knows volcanoes have jungles on them. Jungle-less volcanoes are illegal), when I suddenly heard the characteristic sound that little adorable orphans make when they scream in terror.
Obviously, no real man would run away when he’s presented with such a situation, so I quickly moved towards the sound, only to find an adorable orphan being attacked by the most horrible of all beasts.
A panda bear.
They crave for hugs AND MURDER
“No!” I screamed, ripping my shirt away so my bare chest could act as an armor against that beast’s paws. The panda turned around to face me, ignoring the orphan. “Run, Little Timmy! Run to safety!”
“Uh.” The orphan gulped, too impressed by my manliness to move. “My name’s not Timmy–“
“Of course it is! You orphans are all named Timmy!” Without looking again at the kid I jumped towards the Asian behemoth in front of me and punched it in the face. With ‘asian behemoth’ I mean ‘panda’, by the way. There was no overweight Taiwanese man in front of me. “Now run to safety while I distract it!”
“But it will end you, sir!”
“No! Nothing can beat me when I’m fighting for my country!” I smiled at Little Timmy. “Nothing can beat an American!”
“But you’re not from America!”
“BUT I HAVE FREEDOM!” I said, manly tears falling down my cheeks. “GO NOW AND LIVE, LITTLE TIMMY!”
“Yes, sir!” Little Timmy, now a 40-years-old man with amazing biceps (he had been looking at me for more than two seconds and got a little bit of testosterone poisoning), ran away, and I never saw him again. Neither did the panda.
That beast was tough, let me tell you. It tried to claw my face away, but I was too fast for it, so it tried to tornado-kick me. Panda bear’s tornado-kicks are very dangerous, so I had to get away from him for a second.
What to do now? I couldn’t get too close because it would use its claws, and at middle range it would use its tornado-kick (panda fu is better between two and three meters away from your opponent.)
I was in trouble… Or so did the panda thought! Because I had seen a snake trying to sneak up on me, but I was too keen-eyed to fall for that. With a smooth movement I grabbed the snake by its tail and used it as a whip against the panda, forcing him to retreat.
Oh, and the snake was on fire. I forgot to mention that. The jungle was on fire too. And the panda. Everything was. Even Little Timmy had been slightly on fire. Not too much, though. Orphans are flame-retardant.
But those were bad news, because even though I was fighting bare handed against the bear, the beast was on flames, so it had a firearm. Like a coward, he shot at me without giving me a warning first. I, of course, dodged the bullet, rolled the python around my fist and snake-punched that damned panda so hard it lost consciousness and died because of the flames and the poison.
However, the bullet I had dodged didn’t get lost. It hit a tree and bounced back, coming at me from behind and hitting me in my elbow. Then my tendon went poppy.
And that’s why now I can’t write. Because I didn’t snake-punch that kung-fu panda soon enough. But don’t worry – as soon as I get better, I’ll publish new fanfics.
Rest and be free, my readers.
I spent an hour dictating this to my roommate. There's something wrong with me.
I wish you well. That is truly a awesome way to get injured even if you did forget to mention that after the bullet grazed your elbow you got jumped by 18, 50 foot mutant alligators that were also on fire and had poisonous teeth and had to use your big toe to pin them all down till they surrendered.
--Sollace
1954214 There is nothing wrong with you. Mini-stories (true stories, obviously) are just as good dictated as written by the author themselves.
1954214 Only because you were so callous as to expose your roomie to such testosterone poisoning.
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The best things seem to come from dictation I've noticed.
Dammit, because of you my mustache went all handlebar, my beard went all ZZ Top, my voice went all Tay Zonday, and I laughed so hard I ripped a huge fart at my desk.
I hope you are happy.
Even though that story was true to the word, he only spoke half of the truth.
The full truth being that he was naked the entire time. And his dick was laughably small. The forest started burning because it laughed too hard.
Even the damn blog posts are hilarious. 11/10, would read again.
1954214
1954360 Nonono, you misunderstand. His dick is so HUGE that the entire forest got dick-envy, and that in turn led to a rage, which in turn led to the fire through a domino-effect.
1954562
Doesn't change a fact about him forgetting his pants. That's embarrassing in any way.
This is almost better then a cracked article by Dan.
I am so confused. Wow. Uh... I'll get back to work now.
You have an awesome roommate. Must be a side effect of our testosterone.
What? You didn't fight a bear with your dick? I feel so betrayed...
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I think I need a bigger knife to shave this beard off.
You know, I already had stubble problems before reading this. I'll never be clean shaven again, thanks to you.
I've seen some lame things, but all of that takes the entire bakery in lameness.
That panda has failed me for the last time.