Why George Washington Invented the New Years Resolution

I'm sorry.

What I did to you last night was inexcusable. Inexcusable!

That half-assed blog was very rude of me, and I apologize (in fact, that wasn't even a half-assed blog. More like a quarter-assed blog [which is a lot less sexy than it sounds]). The tempting powers of Colin Farrell and Samuel L. Jackson were just too much for my weak, human soul.


So, tonight I set out to right the wrongs of past Nick Doll (that lazy basterd... er bastard!). Since my Time Machine is not yet complete, all I can really do is try to write a really kick-ass blog. So, here goes nothing...

Fortunately, the God of Blogs hath smiled down upon us. Today, while hanging my 67th poster with Harrison Ford's likeness, I put a massive, hammer sized hole through the wall. After cursing the God of Poster Hanging, I found this wantless destruction was actually a blessing in disguise (as wantless destruction often is [I don't think "wantless destruction" is actually an expression]).

In this hole in the wall, I found an ancient box with a dragon on it. In it, were letters of an ancient correspondence between George Washington (yes, THE George Washington) and Alexander Hamilton (yes... well... Alexander Hamilton). Imagine that (I don't mean the final nail in Eddie Murphy's coffin)! Ancient letters between George Washington and Alexander Hamilton! In the wall of my apartment! In Los Angeles! In an apartment building that was built in 1990.



Well, as crazy as it sounds it is 100% true. I found ancient letters between George Washington and Alexander Hamilton in the wall of my Los Angeles apartment constructed in 1990 while putting up my 67th Harrison Ford poster. In these astounding letters, lays (lies? [not in this blog! Only truths!]) the discovery of a lifetime. In it, Washington and Hamilton outline the creation of the age old tradition of the New Years resolution. I have transcribed the letters below, for I fear the act of scanning them may cause them to crumble into dust.



First Letter from George Washington, Addressed to his Cabinet, 1789

"Dear Cabinet,

G.W. here. Capital job on that revolution dealy. I honestly though we were fuckethed. I mean, who would have thought a rag-tag group of sodomite farmers like us could beat an empire like that of bloody old England. Stupendous!

That crossing of the Delaware was a particularly inspiring maneuver, if I do utter so myselfth (and I do so utter such a proclamation). From now on, when anyone attempts an attack on Christmas, whether it be crossing a river or upon a yet to be invented commuter flying machine, they will certaintly think George Washington. There is nothing more American!

Now that praise has been garnished all around, like Franklin's seaman at a brothel (we need to do that again sometime, you old poop), I must cum (like Franklin!) to why I have taken the time to inscribe such words on parchment. Grave words! Grave words, indeed.

As you are all quite aware, I recently opened the world's first gym, which, I of course, named after the man whom I murdered for the idea. Unfortunately, Gym's idea was not as sound as he led me to believe that night at the brothel, after Franklin left to father more illegitimate hooker children.

My gym is, so far, a huge disaster. More disastrous than the time all the Indians threw that tea into the ocean and the British blamed us for it (someday they will pay for such treachery). That was the worst tea part ever.

Attendance is lousy. Fucking lousy. I have even made Jefferson the manager, but apparently, writing a half-decent Declaration of Independce does not qualify you to run the world's first gym. His ideas to increase attendance bloweth. They bloweth harder than a redcoat does to save his life (and they bloweth very hard, yet it was never hard enough to prevent their beheading).

Jefferson suggested I allow women to attend the gym! He says men will be more apt to work their bodies at an establishment where they can ogle oodles of women. Jefferson always has been a pussy. Who wants to get shirtless and sweaty when there are women around? What a queer idea. I think Jefferson is a fag. A total fag.

I write to you this morrow in hopes you can solve my quandary. I want a way to increase gym membership that does not give women any more rights than they already have. For they already have far too much.

Sincerely,
Prez 4 Life
George Washington

P.S. We also need to come up with a good ole' tradition to accompany the New Years holiday. Any suggestions?"

So ends Washington's first letter.


What follows, is a response from Alexander Hamilton...

"Dearest Prez 4 Life, George Washington,

My liege, I may have the solution to your troubles. BOTH your troubles! To kill two redcoats with one stone, as if were (I remember you were quite of fond of this in wartime. The boys and I are working on getting some redcoats and some very large stones for the office party).

Why not make the new years tradition encourage gym membership? Perhaps, the tradition could be that people make "resolutions" for themselves. These resolutions could be a number of things, but they would always include improving one's body. And what better way to improve their body than at your gym (as long as you keep the women out, that is)?

Food for thought.

Sincerley,
Alexander Hamilton

P.S. I agree that Jefferson is a total fag. Fucketh that cockface."

So ends Hamilton's world altering suggestion.



Which brings me to the final document in the ancient box. Washington's final response to Hamilton.

"Hamilton! You scally-wag!

Have you been smoking that plant the Indians like so much?

No matter, just as Jefferson has always credited the Mary Janice for the Declaration of Independence, it has led you to the most ingenious of conclusions. Why, did you know, Franklin was smoking Mary Janice when he decided to fly that kite in the lightning storm? Sure, it seemed like an unwise decision at the time, but now that he has super human strength, we have all been shut up. All been shut up indeed.

I shall implement your idea forthright!

I must suggest, though, that you consider faking your death. If the American people (bunch of bloody scoundrels!) learn that we have invented a tradition simply to sell them gym memberships, they will tear you limb from limb, just as they did to King George. Perhaps Aaron Burr can help you in this matter. He is quite astute, and a good listener.

It is regrettable that your brilliant solution means you shall have to fake your death, but as super human Franklin always insists "With Great Power Cums Great Responsibility." You have truly saved this seedling of a nation with your unconventional pondering brought on as a product of smoking the Mary Janice.

With Much Love,
Prez 4 Life,
George Washington

P.S. Franklin and I are going to the brothel tomorrow night. Wish to join us? Hookers are on Washington."

Wow. What a discovery right? I can hardly believe I found these papers in that dragon box in the wall of my apartment.

If you wish for prove, I can show you the lett...

Oh shoot. I just sneezed, which caused them to crumble to dust just as I feared the scanner would do.

Look like I was right. Again.

Anyway, seeing as how I have just shared a discovery that alters US History as we know it (in more ways than one), I think I will take the rest the evening off. Maybe watch SWAT again, which this time, I have truly earned.

If this blog goes below one blog a day my heart will stop beating...

I'm tired. I really don't feel like writing this blog right now. I just did pages upon pages of screenwriting and now I just want to watch S.W.A.T. on Bluray.

That's right, I do mean S.W.A.T. with Samuel L. Jackson, Colin Farrell, Michelle Rodriguez, and LL Cool J. The very same S.W.A.T. that Richard Roeper called "A Solid Action Movie With A Lot of Heart and Soul." And Roger Ebert called it "The Best Cop Film Since 'Training Day.'"

Oh, yeah! This S.W.A.T. <-- This is a link. You can view the Trailer by clicking on it. Shit, son! Jeremy Renner is in that movie?! I love that guy! He killed The Hurt Locker (Another link there. Because if I post enough links, you will get distracted and forget I half-assed this blog). Just killed it! #5 on my top 09 of 09, baby! (and for the record, it's worlds better than S.W.A.T.).

So, yeah, I just want to watch S.W.A.T. But I am trying something. An experiment (not the gay kind where you kiss another dude) of sorts. I want to see how many days in a row I can write this blog. I know I can't go the whole year, and I hate setting goals because I never reach them, so let's just see how long I can keep it up, without any sort of goal or any expectations in mind.

I have a whole list of blog ideas in my phone, all ready to be written, but I'm trying to get to S.W.A.T. (these blogs take up a good hour of my life each day!). So I'm not using up any of those gems on this shitty effort. I'm gonna save them for when I have more time to be clever.

Tonight is just to tell you to expect a blog daily. For a while. So this blog is mainly to keep the dream alive. Because I would hate to fail just 4 days into the new year. A shitty blog is better than no blog at all, right?

S.W.A.T. time!

Let's mount up!

I am a great potential husband.

That's right. I have created my first trilogy (well, my second trilogy, if you count "The Quest For Quest." [Hopefully you have no idea what I am talking about]).

I am speaking, of course, of my "I am" blog trilogy. It started two nights ago with the now classic first chapter, "I am a parasite." The epic story of Nick Doll was continued last night with the engrossing middle part, "I am not a dick," which, like all second chapters (The Empire Strikes Back, Temple of Doom), was a dark departure from the first in it's usage of the word "not." Tonight, after an over 24 hour wait, comes the third, thrilling and final blog in the "I am" Trilogy, that you didn't even know was comming, "I am a great potential husband."

I am a great potential husband.

If you can put up with my being a parasite and not a dick, you will find this to be true.

But don't take my word for it... take my evidence for it.

I may not be funny, or entertaining in the least, but I can put up with the same thing, over and over. The "same thing" being you, my potential bride (unless you are a family member, or a dude, cause that's disgusting... Or a fat chick. No fat chicks. Handicaps [or handicapables as I call them] may actually be okay. Just don't be a fat handicapable chick).

I mean, come on ladies, isn't that what's most important when looking for your great potential husband? Someone who can put up with you for the rest of your life (as soon as you die [and I will outlive you if it's the last thing I do] I am using my wealth and fame generated by this blog to hook up with an 18 year-old.)?

And yes, I have that evidence I promised. I saw Sherlock Holmes 3 times, in less than one week. I have seen Raiders of the Lost Ark and Fight Club almost innumerable times. I have watched every episode of Arrested Development (that's 53 episodes!) over 50 times. If I really love something, I will watch it again and again. So, if I really love you, I will put up with you for the rest of your life (until I am free to hook up with that 18 year-old after what the media will refer to as your "suspicious passing").

But, and there is a butt in our relationship (yours, I have no measurable ass), I can only put up with certain kinds of people for eternity (by which I mean 23 years, which is when you meet your untimely end by nearly untraceable poison). Sure, I can watch Sherlock Holmes forever and not get bored. But, for every Sherlock Holmes, there are over a hundred movies I could not sit through more than once.

If you are sexy, engaging, clever, exciting, and action packed (okay, that last one may not explain a lady as well as it does a movie) like Sherlock Holmes, we're in business for 23 years (less if you get fugly too fast). If you are a long, stupid, bore with blue skin like Avatar, then, I'm sorry honey, our relationship just won't last (I know it's not always easy to tell if a person is stupid and a bore before marriage if the sex is great enough, but hopefully the blue skin will be a dead giveaway [and yes, I will stop insulting Avatar as soon as all the "Avatar fans" come clean and stop lying to themselves and others]).

So, what do you say? Will you marry me?

...

...

What else do you want? I just proved that if you are the female equivalent of Sherlock Holmes (the movie, not the fictional character) I will stay with you until I poison you! That's a guarantee of no divorce (because if you try to divorce me, I'll just poison you ahead of schedule [I already have the poison!]!)! Exclamation point.

What more do you want in a husband?

Hmmm, okay... let's see what else I got...

I bathe daily... twice daily if I go to the gym after my morning shower... I'm not a dick... I have a dick... and if you say no, I'll poison you (one way or another you are getting poisoned.)!

That's about it. But hopefully that is enough (the threat of poisoning is enough alone, I would think). Because it's all I have to offer.

So, you know, think about it. Maybe sleep on it (but not too long, because it may be the last sleep you ever take on it).

Because I am a great potential husband.

And so ends another trilogy. Where each chapter was more disappointing than the last (Pirates, Matrix, Austin Powers, Lord of the Rings, I'm looking at yous guys).

I love you!

I am not a dick.

I may be a parasite, but I am not a dick.

But I do play one on the internet.

One of my dear friends, also a dear reader, accused me of being a horrible person. Maybe it was my comments about homeless people being "putrid human beings" and "subhuman creatures" or maybe it was when I stated "fucking homeless" and then "fucking homeless!" Maybe it was when I proved I was not racist by saying I hate all people equally. Maybe it was when I told the man who invented roller shoes to take his time machine and use it to kill his infant self (Hell yes, this blog posting has become a clip show). Or perhaps it was when I called people who use headsets "faggity douches."

Look, I'm not really an asshole. I don't hate as much as I appear to hate on this blog. It's more a character, like Stephen Colbert on his show vs. the real Stephen Colbert. The Nick Doll who blogs is an exaggerated version of the real Nick Doll (I've always wanted to refer to myself in third person on the net... besides on a Facebook Status or Twitter Update).

I am an unfunny, much less clever version of this man.

I may actually have nothing but animosity toward people who feel entitled enough to ask for a store to open for them after it has closed or who jay walk at a slow, greedy pace so oncoming traffic must slow down as not to shatter their windshield and get blood and guts all over their car. But I would never act hostile towards such a person were I to encounter them face to face, either on the street or in the retail setting. Because I may hate them secretly, but I don't want to be a dick.

I may ignore homeless people on the street when they ask for change, but I don't actually consider them subhuman or putrid creatures. I just don't want to give them money, and ignoring them is easier than saying no (and, come on, everyone does it! [Like cigarettes.]).

So, I am not a dick.

But I will continue to act like a dick on the internet.

I am a parasite.

I am a parasite.

I feed off your human emotions.

There is no experience more pleasurable than seeing a high quality, brand-spanking-new film on opening weekend with a sold out crowd. There's a certain energy about the place if the movie is exciting and the crowd is really loving it.

I'll never forget (possibly) seeing Casino Royale the day after Thanksgiving, the way the crowd gasped when James Bond had to jump after the bomb maker from the crane to the top of the construction site. There's nothing like being in tune with a large audience for all the emotions that come with a Hollywood Blockbuster.

Seeing a movie at home is never the same, whether it is Bluray or DVD, or even if you have the sickest home theater system known to man. Without the audience a movie is nothing (well, that's an exaggeration. A good movie rocks regardless, but watching it at home is but a shadow of what it once was at the theater). I'll put it in terms my music obsessed friends can understand: seeing a movie opening weekend at the theater is being at the concert. Watching a DVD at home is simply listening to the CD (well, a DVD is more aptly like listening to a tape. Watching a Bluray is like listening to a CD.).

Obviously, experiencing a movie for the first time can only be experienced once (the first time, duh!). The next best thing, the only way to chase that original high, as it were, is to see the movie again in a packed theater. You still get the benefit of the audience reaction, even though you know what is coming next.

This is the rationale I use when I see a movie multiple times, preferably within the first week or two of release. I can only experience the pure, utter bliss of first viewing a movie like Sherlock Holmes once. But, after that, I have a very brief window (two weeks, maybe four weeks if the movie is a giant hit) to experience the movie going experience of Sherlock Holmes. And I intend to experiance said experience as many times as necessary, because after the movie's popularity subsides, the opportunity to watch the movie with a giant crowd is gone forever.

You see, I feed off the emotions of others. I may not be a Sherlock Holmes virgin, but the person sitting next to me probably is. As are most, if not all, the other people in the theater. I experience their wonder, their shock, their laughter with them, which is the next best thing to feeling it myself for the first time. There is a certain scene in Sherlock Holmes (NO spoilers here) where the audience always gasps. Another where they are always grossed out. This is my bread and butter. This... feeds... me.

I have seen Sherlock Holmes 3 times in the last week. Because though I will get it on Bluray in 6 months, it will never be the same. I saw Star Trek 5 times. Last year I saw The Dark Knight 4 times and Iron Man 5.

If you know me, and I have ever pushed you to watch a movie I love but that you were not keen to watch, it because I wanted your emotions. I wanted to experience the movie with a virgin to the experience, so I could attempt to capture the emotions you had the privilege of feeling for the first time.

Because I am a parasite.

And I feed on human emotions brought to the surface by movies.

So if you are ever enjoying a movie in the dark of the theater and a chill goes down your spine, and all the warmth and joy seem to be sucked from the room, that is not a Dementor (oh shit, HP reference mother fuckers! [I hate myself]), that is simply me, feeding off your joy.

Be seeing you.

AVATARD Vs. TRANSFORMERS 2

As I've said previously, the movie AVATAR reminds me of most is STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE (1979). Both have about 20 minutes of plot spread out over several extra hours of what were state-of-the-art special effects at the time of release and therefore have no entertainment value three decades after they are released.

That being said, the movie that AVATAR is most like in the past decade is TRANSFORMERS 2 (but only because DANCES WITH WOLVES and FERNGULLY were made in the early 90s). So, I decided to compare the two side by side in several categories to determine which was the better film. Join me, if you will, in examining two of the longest, most boring films of 2009.


As with my previous AVATARD blog, if you haven't seen AVATAR, don't read between the happy smurf and the bored smurf. Because, between the happy and the bored smurf lies the plot of AVATAR (Get it this time? Because between the a happy and bored Nick there was a viewing of Avatar. [Gee, I love my own shit]. There is only 1 instance of spoilers. So enjoy the rest all you smart people who skipped AVATAR!

CAST

TRANSFORMERS 2 : Shia LeBeouf, Megan Fox, John Tuturro, giant robots.

AVATAR : Sigourny Weaver, Uhura from STAR TREK (sort of), that general from THE MEN WHO STARE AT GOATS, that dude-from-TERMINATOR: SALVATION-who-Hollywood-keeps-trying-to-pass-off-as-a-star-but-I-don't-see-it, that gawky dude from DODGEBALL, smurfs.

Advantage: TRANSFORMERS 2. Sure, Megan Fox is one of the worst actors of all time (if not the worst), but nobody fucks with the beef (Shia). He's Spielberg's golden boy. He's got the good looks, the great arms (as my sister informs me), the charm, the comedic edge... he's the next Ben Affleck as far as action movies are concerned (I bet he'll fade just as fast). And John Tuturro is hilarious. All Avatar really has is Sigourney Weaver, and she is 20 years past "movie star" status.

SCRIPT

TRANSFORMERS 2: Megatron is back and he wants... something. Shia's going to college... yada, yada, yada... explosions. Giant plot holes ensue, dialog stinks, characters are straight from INDEPENDENCE DAY. Typical Michael Bay movie. Written by those two whiz kids who wrote STAR TREK (WTF? Best and worst blockbuster scripts of the year are by the same guys? [Explanation, one script was written before the strike, the other after. Yet both came out at the same time, just a year after it ended... peculiar.]).

AVATAR: Dances With Smurfs. No plot holes neccesarily, but important details are left out, dialog stinks, and characters are straight out of typical Sci Fi handbook. Feels like a Michael Bay movie. Written by James Cameron (who brought you TITANIC).

Advantage: AVATAR. You didn't actually think I would say AVATAR's script was worse than TRANSFORMERS 2 did you? Sure AVATAR's script sucked, but TRANSFORMERS 2 didn't even make sense!

RACISM

TRANSFORMERS 2: The two most racist CGI characters sense Jar Jar Binks. Two robots who speak like they are "gangsta," wear gold chains and have gold teeth, and can't read. Fail.

AVATAR: The most racist alien species since the Gungans (Jar Jar's people). Those blue aliens are obviously like an "African tribe" in all ways except their skin is blue, down to the casting (all the main smurfs were played by black actors). My friend Bobby explained it best in his AVATAR review.

Advantage: TRANSFORMERS 2. It doesn't get much more racist than two "black" futuristic robots who are machines far more advanced than humans, yet still cannot read. But, at least this racism made for amusing moments.

DIRECTOR

TRANSFORMERS 2 : Michael Bay (THE ROCK, BAD BOYS, THE ISLAND, ARMAGEDDON)

AVATAR: James Cameron (TERMINATOR 1 & 2, ALIENS, TITANIC)

Advantage: Tie. After these two three hour spectacles, I honestly can't tell the difference between the two.

SEX APPEAL

TRANSFORMERS 2: Two words: Megan Fox. Okay, three words: Megan Fucking Fox! Okay, many words (that's right, I was too lazy to count them): Megan Fucking Fox oiled up before every scene.

AVATAR: A sex scene between two smurfs? Then, later, a scene where a smurf caresses a human with her blue hands?
And Sigourney Weaver is the only human chick in the movie? What the fuck were they thinking?

Advantage: Megan Fox... er... TRANSFORMERS 2.

LENGTH

TRANSFORMERS 2: 150 minutes.

AVATAR: 162 minutes.

Advantage: God bless you, Michael Bay, for keeping your film under 162 minutes!

SPECIAL EFFECTS

TRANSFORMERS 2: State of the art special effects animate giant robots that look flawless.

AVATAR: State of the art special effects animate blue aliens that look soulless (like every CGI character before them), but also pretty flawless other than that. 3-D is pretty damn cool (though those glasses were not designed to be worn for 3 hours!).

Advantage: AVATAR, only because of the 3-D. Otherwise, both have state of the art special effects and anyone who claims one is "more fake" or "less fake" than the other is full of shit.

FINAL TALLY

TRANSFORMERS 2: 5

AVATAR: 3

(That's 5 points for Trannies 2 and 3 points for AVATAR, not TRANSFOMERS 25 and AVATAR 3. Both ideas terrify The Living Daylights out of me [shit son, there's another Bond reference mother fucker {can anyone say callback?}]).

So, Megan Fox... er... TRANSFORMERS 2 for the win.!

But, it is such a shitty movie, so going against the data, I'm gonna say AVATAR is the better movie. Script is so important to me and AVATAR squeaks by in that category because TRANSFORMERS 2 really has one of the worst scripts of all time.

Still, I hope to God I won't be seeing either, ever again.

Be seeing you.

Donate Your Cell Phone to a Homeless Man

One person can make a difference!

That's right, you can make a difference! Just you! All by yourself! Like a big boy/girl!

It's true. Just look at all these people who have made a difference...


Adolf Hitler

Joseph Stalin

Ghengis Khan


Ok, so all those people were evil. Just look at all the non-evil individuals who have made a difference...

Luke Skywalker
James Bond

Khan (I mean, Khaaaaaaan!)


Okay, so those were all fictional. And Khan was evil AND fictional. But there are non-evil, real, flesh and blood people who have made a difference too...

I just can't think of anyway.

The point is YOU can make a difference. Right here and right now (or, at the very least, right near here in a time slightly later than now [cause you're reading this blog at present]).

All you need to do is give your old cell phone to a homeless person. It doesn't need to have service. It doesn't have to hold a charge. It just needs to look like a cell phone.

It's a win/win!

First, the cell phone is recycled! So it's not thrown in some landfill where it eventually gets swallowed by a mutant (following the nuclear apocalypse of 2012 [damn those Mayans, there were right! But so was Planet of the Apes...]) who doesn't know better, causing it to choke to death (or, if it survives, the phone is still lodged in its mutant throat, so the poor creature can no longer eat, so it very slowly [and very painfully] starves to death. It's kind of comical really, the mutant gets so skinny that your old cell phone is visible, bulging out of it's skinny little neck). I know you've been saving all your cell phones to use the parts to construct your time machine and/or robot slave, but think about more than just yourself for a moment here! Who ever heard of anyone changing the world with a time machine!

Looking pretty insane...

Second (as in the second win in this win/win scenario), the homeless person who receives your phone no longer looks insane! Let me explain briefly (if I am capable of this).

All homeless people talk to themselves. This is a scientific fact. It has been this way since the beginning of time (well, at least since the beginning of homes).

They mutter to themselves, the carry out one-sided (sometimes two-sided) conversations, and they most certainly shout at the top of their lungs that their paper bag has been stolen by scarecrows. They appear insane. Each and every one of them. Fucking homeless.

But with cell phones, they need not look crazy! If you give a homeless person a cell phone (a much better choice than giving a mouse a cookie, because if you give a mouse a cookie, you are
just asking for a rodent infestation [which is preferable to a homeless infestation. Fucking homeless!), you are giving them their dignity back (what little dignity such putrid human beings like the homeless deserve).

Yay! Dignity!

If you see a dirty bearded man, dressed in rags, talking gibberish with a cell phone next to his ear, what is the first thing you think? I'll tell you what you will think, "I sure hope that man is not planning a terrorist attack. Perhaps I should notify the proper authorities." But this is good. This means you are not thinking, "That homeless person is insane. I should murder the lot of them someday.... That someday is today, mutha' fucka'! (*cocks shotgun*) Let's hunt!"

You don't know the phone isn't functional. That man could very well be talking to his lawyer about the seagull who stole his refrigerator.

And you don't have to donate an old phone either. Have a headset that came with your phone but don't want to look like a faggity douche (I do not use faggit as slur against gay people, I simply use it to explain people like Hollywood folk who may use a headset) by using it? Donate that to a homeless person. As long as he is smart enough to not leave the cord hanging at his waste (which may be too much to expect from the subhuman creatures known as the homeless) , that's enough to make him look like a faggity douche... a faggity douche who is not homeless or crazy (just a faggity douche).

Anyway, tomorrow, when that homeless person asks you some change, give him change instead (the Obama variety); give him your old cell phone or unused headset (assuming you are not a faggity douche). Because, that food he wants may keep him alive for a few days, but the dignity you provide him will feed him for a lifetime (because, for all we know, homeless people can live off dignity alone. We simply don't know, because there has yet to be a single homeless person in the history of man who ever had any).

Anyway, food for thought.

Be seeing you.


P.S. OF COURSE IT WAS DESIGNED BY A YOUTUBE EMPLOYEE'S FOUR YEAR OLD SON. IT LOOKS LIKE SHIT!