Showing posts with label I could take 'em. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I could take 'em. Show all posts

Monday, October 06, 2008

I could take 'em: David Suzuki

I don't know how he writes without any hands

I remember the last time I did one of these Diesel likened it to James Joyce with a rail road spike in his noggin, so that’s good, isn’t it? Of course it is, everyone’s favourite petroleum based blog overlord is always complimentary. I also believe I was still under the impression my alter ego was fooling people, so it’s been quite some time since this category has been pulled from the fire and tossed around like a piping hot baked potato of stupidity.

Yes that’s right kids its time again for me to show how much of a man I am, be telling you all rather unconvincingly that there is a long list of people I could ‘take’. Fighting truly is the best way to show people you are better than them, so here I am again to prove my worth describing how I would beat up some person.

But who, which unlucky SOB, is going to get it from me the big man with the big muscles. If I’m honest kids it doesn’t really matter, since I’m more than likely to at one stage ‘go low’ as the kids put it and kick, punch or bite said person in the balls. But we still need to name a person, who do we have kids, lets take a look at the list… yes , hmmm, indeed, ah there we go this should be a fair challenge.

David Suzuki, eco warrior and all around nice guy, sounds like a decent fight. Plus he’s Canadian so he’s bound to be useless at fisty-cuffs, hey Canada prove me wrong. Why I would want to fight one of the greatest humans of the modern age isn’t important here kids. Just pretend it’s for some sort of FOX TV special. But as usual I have to go through how this fight would come about.

There’s me, I’m walking down the street, I’m wearing a head band because they are cool, and I have some sort of vinyl jacket on. Suzuki comes from the other direction, and me being the gracious individual I am step aside to let him through.

Me: “Hey, Mr Myogi”
Suzuki: “No you have me confused with Pat Morita”
Me: “No, see I’ve almost seen the karate kid movies 3 times, I know an actor when I see one”
Suzuki: “You’ve almost seen them, then how can you know it’s me”
Me: “Uh… Gaydar”
Suzuki: “That’s silly if you’ll excuse me I have to go”
Me: “Oh ok then, sure just walk away, wax on wax off, yeah sure you’re just a big scaredy cat aren’t you Chairman Kaga”
Suzuki: “Ok know you’re just being racist and naming Asian people”
Me: “No I’m not… Cloud”
Suzuki: “He’s not even real or Asian, he’s from Final Fantasy”
Me: “Now who’s being racist”
Suzuki: “You’re a petty small minded individual”
Me: “Small mind this [snaps to crane kick position]”
Suzuki: “…… Oh it’s on!”

See it’s simple really, how many times have you seen that happen on the street. So there’s me arms raised one foot off the ground balancing ready to deliver my sweet crane style kick. David Suzuki opposite me, sleeves rolled up ready to fight back/cop the ass whooping of a millennium from a borderline racist maniac. How to beat him though, how to come through this unscratched and ready to rumble again should the need arise.

Like vampires and garlic... seriously

Well as everyone knows Canadians are left powerless in the presence of the element Carbon, have you ever seen a Canadian use a pencil, I’m telling you straight up, they can’t. It’s like werewolves with silver, but real, test it yourself. Go to your local Wal-Mart and buy a Canadian and some pencils. So after asserting your manliness over a seventy year old Canadian by shoving a pencil into his right kidney, what do you do… well you run, because nothing gets a mob together quicker than stabbing an environmentalist in a vital organ.

And that settles that, no more wondering how I’d beat David Suzuki for you, so when your kids/neighbours ask you that question you can answer with extreme confidence. And when they look at you with that look of ‘why do I bother trying to have intelligent conversations with you’, you can direct them here and tell them they should be happy with what they get. promises to try harder next time

Member of, like what you just read? Canadian, fancy some revenge on me for desecrating the image of one of your great people, well go here and vote for some of my other posts.

Sunday, December 23, 2007

I could take 'em... Margaret Thatcher

So kids back again for another dose of crap, well good for you. I’m quite sure by now you know its bad for you, but it’s always the bad stuff that taste the best isn’t it. Well what has happened in the recent weeks, well I joined up to the Wits End community, I’ll be posting some short stories there every now and then, you can find the link in the blog roll. Britney’s younger sister is following her down the path to pure white trash, and has become pregnant to one of her church friends at the age of 16… its so very Christian isn’t it, somehow I think the piety and the reserved nature of Christianity didn’t rub off on her. Oh well, I’m sure they will get married and live a long and happy life together, no seriously I’m sure they will, someone from that family has to be normal. And of course it’s nearly Christmas, it’s the Sunday before the big day and ol’ Jeebus is rubbing his hands together at the thought of celebrating his 2007 birthday. Whilst kids every where pray that the parental units they are attached to get them the correct Barbie or Action Joe slut toy. Oh well hey kids it’s on to more important matters.

A while ago I posted how I could win a fight against Ghandi, basically because I am so immensely strong cool and sexy. Why would I want to fight him wasn’t important but the basic gist was I kicked him in the sack, when he was distracted by me telling him everyone’s favourite MASH character was behind him. Dirty I know but hell that’s me, pure dirt, but don’t you love me for it. In that little pointless post we all lost some brain cells, it was inevitable kids wasn’t it, so don’t worry about it. But Lin of the Creek Journal stupidly encouraged me by giving me a suggestion of who I could fight next, so blame her for this update of puerility. Introducing the next bout in the long line of people I could take, Margaret Thatcher, ex Prime Minister of England and the only person in the world who bothers pronouncing ‘h’ properly. First of all yes I know she is a woman, but only just, I know you’re all looking down your noses at me for saying I’m going to take on a woman, but I dare say most of you would be unaware of the fact that old Maggie was a bare knuckle boxing champ. Growing up in the mean streets of Oxford beating off poor people who were after her small change, lead to her true first passion, mixed martial arts.

So this fight wont be as easy as kicking a small Asian man in a nappy in the spuds. First lets go down the path of how this fight would start, hold on kids it’s about to get really, really stupid, Jessica Simpson type stupid. There goes me, a much younger, stylish me wandering down the streets of England singing a Clash song. Which one it doesn’t matter, actually I’m probably just yelling “Fatchers England” at the top of my voice whilst pretending my semi literate public school education taught me anything about politics. You know like Joe Strummer. I’m pretending that being a musician makes my opinion important, and that instead of going into politics where my great ideas can make a difference I’m going to get rich cashing in on the stupidity of the lower class youth. Who think I’m some sort of lyrical political genius, you know like Joe Strummer. So I’m some wannabe punk hippy douche bag wandering down the street playing my three cords whilst singing in an accent you normally associate with receiving your order of fish and chips, you know like Joe Stru…, ok so you get the point, I hate Joe Strummer and The Clash. If he had such great knowledge of politics why the hell didn’t he do something about it by becoming a politician? Not that I’m standing up for Maggie, not at all, but lets leave my views of all politicians and people in positions of power for another time, I have a fight to deal with.

So there is me, “Fatchers England”, and so on. When suddenly from the opposite direction comes the Iron Wench herself, she looks me up and down, displeasingly groaning at my clothes made out of safety pins and garbage bags. I notice this and being the reserved individual you know I am look for some action.

Me: “Yo, Thatcher… you suck and… stuff”
Maggie: “Get a job you urchin”
Me: “Hey, I’m not gay”
Maggie: “That’s not what Urchin means you fool”
Me: “I know I was making a statement about the current education system”
Maggie: “No you weren’t, you’re just a Cretin”
Me: “OK now I know you’re calling me gay, so put em up biatch”
Maggie: “I don’t want to fight you I promised my mother I wouldn’t fight any more”
Me: “Oh of course, but now you’re off to work in an ice factory”
Maggie: “Yes, but how did you know that?”
Me: “That’s the story to ‘The Big Boss’”
Maggie: “That’s… just a coincidence”
Me: “You are such a liar”

And on it would go in a ridiculous circle of stupidity, until of course we would either ending up punching on or sleeping together, but hopefully the former of the two. But now to the meat of the sandwich, how could I take on such a dangerous specimen of femininity and come out on top, the kick to the bikkies isn’t an option. The boob punch is a special tactic I choose to reserve for really special occasions, (I haven’t had to use it yet). So how, well there is one tactic that does seem to carry some weight to it. It is an ancient technique passed down through the Pope family lines, a secret tactic only a few know about, how can I put this so it wont sound crude… smash the bitch in the knee cap with a lump mallet. I know it’s not the secret kung fu style kick flippy thing you imagined is it. But what can I say we Catholics aren’t a terrible subtle bunch, look at our two most famous organisations, ones the Vatican and the others the Mafia. What did you expect?

So again I just resorted to cheating, to beat up a woman who even in her hey-day was a good few decades older than me. But hey your not here to see nice I am are you, you’re here to marvel at my amazing manliness and shiny muscles… oh look at this one.

Pope Terry aiming just beyond mediocrity

Margaret Thatcher seems to get a great deal of pleasure from

Friday, November 23, 2007

I could take 'em... Ghandi

Ok kids I know this is stupid but I’m a little bored so why not, let’s start something new. This little ditty is far from me bragging about my incredible physical strength, although I must say it is of Herculean proportions. This is just about me being as stupid as I can possible be, as most physical confrontations are, just go to a bar and yell ‘what are you looking at?’, and you find out true stupidity. In these and the following instalments, I will outline a few in the long list of people I could ‘take’ in a fist fight. Its not that I want to fight them, it’s just that one day I may have to, you know to prove how much of a man I am, and that no one can rumble like a 'Burra' lad can. Ok yes so every lady out there is now secretly swooning after me even more than they were before, like every woman knows there is nothing sexier than two blokes whaling on each other, unless its two drunk blokes whaling on each other. So there you go lads want to attract a female, just punch another bloke in the gob. But settle ladies, I’m a groom of god… wait that’s not right. Any way ladies back, settle down lets get down to the business.

He was a wiley little bugger

Ghandi… ok yes I know it is not really going to be much of a challenge is it. Mainly because firstly he is most likely long dead (ask Shecky there are still some sightings recorded even today), and secondly he’s the guy that invented passive aggressive… or something similar to that. So it’s a pointless argument, a senile banana could most likely beat him, but none the less lets continue, otherwise you would of wasted a trip here wont you. Lets first go through how possibly this fight could start, Were going to have to use our imaginations here kids so stick with me, some how Ghandi is alive and well and running around being passive aggressive, when he bumps into me

Ghandi: “Oh sorry about that”
Pope T: “Hey don’t worry about it, BUT don’t let it happen again”
Ghandi: “Calm yourself my friend”
Pope T: “I am calm baldie”
Ghandi: “Are you, you seem angry, would you like some Sprite”
Pope T: “I’d like you to bog off nappy boy”
Ghandi: “It’s a Toga like John Belushi in animal house”
Pope T: “How is that even possible that you know that movie?”
Ghandi: “The eight fold path is very enlightening”
Pope T: “That’s Buddhism… what the hell is going on here”
Ghandi: “Would you like to see my Grouch Marks impression”

That would be the time I believe I would soc him one, its not that I don’t love the Marks brothers, its just that seeing Ghandi smoke a cigar would dredge up some really horrible memories for me. You’ll also notice that it was indeed me that started that fight, as I always say it takes a real man to smash a passive aggressive in a nappy… sorry Toga. So the fights started a I’m likely circling him going ‘C’MON’ with my shirt off, while ladies everywhere are fainting with delight at the sight two of the sexist men in existence, trying to bean each other in the kisser.

But how would I win the fight, well to put it rather bluntly, I’d probably go for some sort of attack to the goolies region, dirty I know, but well a wins a win. And as you can remember my other favourite saying has always been ‘cheap or not, kicking a man in the spuds just plain funny’. Ok so I have never said that before, but I might say it again you never know. Of course Ghandi was fast, not many people know that he was lightening quick, so I would most likely need to distract him with something. Maybe by yelling ‘look behind you its Gary Burghoff’, and then KA-blam while his head is turned.

So yes finally that burning question has been answered, I know everyone was wondering who would indeed win that fight. So now you no longer need to worry, you can just go back to wondering about the ridiculous events it would take for said brawl to happen. Stay tuned for further instalments in the diary and other people I could ‘take’ its sure to be a fulfilling read, but in the mean time stay loose people and watch your backs.

Pope Terry aiming just beyond mediocrity…

There are a lot of tough men fighting at