Poor Mojo's Almanac(k) Classics (2000-2011)
(published September 28, 2006)
Did You See That Thing I Just Did?
Hey man, did you see that thing I just did? I just jumped down that whole flight of stairs! It was awesome! Did you see that shit? What, no? Weren't you wondering where I came from all of a sudden? You were all just walking calmly through the park and then: BAM! Here I am! Didn't it scare you at all? No? Oh. Well, if you give me ten bucks I could do it again. Ok, five. It might be more impressive if you watch me do it. Just a second, I'll run back up there. HEY DOWN THERE! LOOK UP HERE! WATCH THIS THING I'M GOING TO DO! OR DON'T! WHICHEVER FREAKS YOU OUT MORE! I DON'T CARE; IT'S YOUR FIVE BUCKS! READY? HERE I GO! OW! Oh, shit. Ouch. That really hurt. Like, a lot more than last time. Ow. OK, wait. Don't leave. Wait a—ouch! Shit, I think I broke my leg or something. Oh, wow, definitely broken. Hey man, wait! Help! Look at this fucking leg! It's hanging by a thread! There's like a jagged piece of bone sticking out of the skin and tearing all of the tendons and muscle and shit. Gross. Look at the human body—not all that amazing, huh? Kind of sucks when it comes right down to it. Can't even jump down 18 flights of stairs? A monkey could totally do that. Or a mountain lion. Mountain lions are badass yet endangered, which is too bad. What is kinda amazing, though, is, How am I not passing out or anything right now? OK, now I feel like I'm passing out. Nope, false alarm. Just a second. I'm going to try to align the two halves of my leg and hold them together with my hand. Maybe I can limp over to the emergency room—save the 'rents a few bucks in ambulance fees. Shit's like 800 bucks. The blood is making everything kind of slick, but I think I can do this. Nope. So that just tore the rest of the ligaments and now my leg's completely off. OK. There's got to be some better way to do this. There always is. 800 bucks is a lot of money. I know—hand me that stick over there, will you? The sharp one. I'm going to kind of jab it into the lower half of my leg and make a sort of walking stick. Thanks. Ew. Oh, ew. Who knew that the human flesh was so weak? Or maybe that the stick was so sharp? Either way, that did not work. My leg is basically skewered. This is bad. Oh, no—hey! Dude! Your dog is gnawing on my leg! Read the fucking rules, man—there's a leash law for a reason! No, don't call an ambulance. Shit's like 800 bucks. Unless you got 800 bucks you want to give me? No? Didn't think so. Just keep your natty-ass DOG off of my LEG, alright? Shit. What a bad day. What shit-ass luck. As if The War wasn't bad enough. Isn't this fucking America? Aren't you ashamed, America? To have a kid with his fucking leg off in the middle of a park? This kind of thing is not supposed to happen in this country. Least not before he took office. And I do mean took. Today, this is a dangerous fucking country. Here's the thing: Who's protecting us from us? Who's going to keep us from screwing up world affairs, or breaking our own legs in two by jumping down flights of stairs for money? Not the government. Not anymore. No, I already told you—don't call an ambulance. Shit's like 800 bucks.
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