Hi. My name is Clark and this is my blog. My intent is to entertain and I'd like this to be more than "Clark And What Pisses Him Off" (although there will definitely be some of that) so I'll be posting some short humorous fiction as well. I hope you like it.
WARNING: Sometimes I will cuss. And I will also embellish facts (ie: lie) in the interest of making things funnier than they really are. Just so you know.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Packin'
I just watched an ESPN 'Outside The Lines' report on professional athletes carrying guns. The report mentioned that four out of every ten American males owns a firearm and among professional athletes, that number goes up to eight out of ten. I don't doubt that because if I were a professional athlete, you'd better believe I'd be carrying a weapon at all times. Hell yeah! Except it wouldn't be some stupid, wimpy revolver or semi-automatic handgun like everybody else. Nope, I'd be strappin' a bronze crossbow straight out da Chinese Han Dynasty, yo. With a full quiver of flaming arrows. Because that's the kind of piece that gets the attention of the ladies, you know what I'm sayin'? That way, when some straight-up sucka fools stepped to me outside a strip club at three in the morning asking me for an autograph for their blind daughters in the Leukemia hospital or whatever, instead of pulling out some sorry-ass MAC-10 and capping them right there, I would go across the street, find an elevated position, possibly the rooftop of a neighboring strip club, that provided both cover and concealment and launch a barrage of fiery shafts of death into their dumb asses. And that's why I grew up dreaming of being a professional athlete in the first place.
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