Assassination Day

On the road of life, I am a mustachioed plumber clad in red.

Let the record show that on July 6, 2008 a new king was crowned; that E-Mart's stock rose to Olympian heights while Kmart's plummeted to new depths, the likes of which James Cameron and his fucked-up underwater cameras have yet to film; that -- word to 50 Cent's titular album and The Love Guru's box office take -- a massacre Mehmet occurred, and I'm pretty sure highway cleanup crews are still scraping green dinosaur carcass off the asphalt.

That's right, the epic Mario Kart battle between Messrs Forbes and Highly saw a Victor von Doom emerge yesterday. That man: me. I'd like to thank my sponsors, Dorco, (makers of TG Shaving Foam), Raison Cigarettes, and Nozz-O-La Cola, for their support. I could have done it without them, but I would have done it broke.

Now, my *snicker* once-formidable opponent will likely provide you with any number of excuses to explain his downfall: my kart is too fast (even though my items are shit); I use the power slide (which is like a WNBA player calling an NBA star a cheater for dunking in a game of one-on-one); he was sick; my bitch -- aka your favorite Shih Tzu's favorite Shih Tzu -- distracted him.

Excuses, excuses...and none of them valid. Had I *shudder* lost, I wouldn't bemoan Heezy's noxious, mustard gas fart strategy, although I will pat mice elf on the back for winning in spite of it.

No; I will not kick a man when he's down. I sincerely hope he recovers from this latest defeat to drive another day. In fact, I'm holding a press conference, during which I'll pretend to step down from the sport of kart racing, only to have a Mowhawk-coifed Kmart/Travis Bickle show up and say "Hey, woman! Bring your pretty little self over to my apartment tonight, and I'll show you a real man" to my girlfriend, followed by me announcing my return to the pixelated circuit. For one final showdown.

But when that day arrives, I predict that the illustrious and praiseworthy Kmart will again be sick.

Of losing.