In case anyone is concerned with my day-to-day activities, and who, for Christ’s sake isn’t, I’ve recently offered to make a plea deal with Robert Mueller and give him everything I know about Donald Trump and Russia. He told me, “No way, pal,” since I’ve not been charged with anything, and, in reality, have absolutely NOTHING to do with Trump OR Russia. This is kind of a bummer as I’d hoped to make a deal were I could be relocated to Hawaii and be surrounded by beautiful women agents who’d do anything I asked them to until my dying day. Oh, well, what can ya do, eh? Welp, I’m off to write threatening letters to members of the Nobel Prize Committee for STILL not recognizing my self-awarded Nobel Prize. $Amen$
Never in history has a self-awarded Nobel Prize winner been more persecuted than I. For four years now the Nobel Prize Committee has outright refused to acknowledge my self-awarded prize. They turn me away when I drop by their homes unannounced, and they threaten me with legal action when I run naked through their children’s schools carrying a sign that reads, “Fuck The Nobel Prize Committee And Their Kids!”
They’ve now stepped up their game of intimidation against me by sending drones to spy on me. It was bad enough when they asked the FBI to appoint a special prosecutor to look into my repeated prank phone calls to Committee members and their families, but sending spy drones to follow me day and night is something I simply will not sit still for. Until the Committee stops this harassment of me and recognizes my self-awarded Nobel Prize, I will make it my life’s duty to have pizza’s delivered to their homes that they didn’t order and whine like a spoiled brat to the media about how awful they are to me every chance I get. This IS going end, you stinking bastards, and it’s going to end with me getting the recognition from you I deserve. You can count on it!
Well, on second thought, maybe it won’t work out. But that’s OK because, if it doesn’t, I can always become POTUS. Americans will elect anyone these days.
Well, looks like my atheist plan to have a peaceful evening roasting Creationist infants and impaling Baptists on 8 foot pikes to hear ’em scream while I eat isn’t gonna happen. Someone at the Nobel Prize Committee offices approved a drone strike against me after I prank called one of the committee member’s mothers. How was I suppose to know I was calling her in an intensive care nursing home and that any unnecessary stress could be fatal to her? Who the hell do I look like, God? Besides, what I said to her was all a bullshit lie, anyway. I didn’t REALLY feed her son to alligators at the Lincoln Park Zoo out of my frustration over not yet receiving a NOBEL FRIGGIN’ PRIZE. I mean what the fuck, man?! If some old lady can’t deal with the fact I’m under A LOT of stress cause of this issue, then fuck her. Haven’t I got rights too? Well, haven’t I? And what about the stress SHE put me under by answering the damn phone in the first place? I didn’t think she would, so I hadn’t prepared anything to say to her. So when she answered, I just blubbered out what I always say in situations like that, “Listen bitch! I just fed your asshole son to some big, fat alligators cause I don’t have my Nobel Prize yet. So if you don’t want me to do the same to you, you’d better figure out a way to talk him into getting me that prize.”
If she believed me, and that caused her to have the heart attack that killed her, then that’s her fucking problem. I mean COME ON! The Lincoln Park Zoo doesn’t even have friggin’ alligators. Who wouldn’t know that? Anyway, back to my situation. A chair woman for the Nobel Committee, Priscilla Puffinipple, called and informed me a drone was dispatched to blow me, and the 6 square blocks around me, into atoms. “We just want to make sure we get ya,” she said. Bitch. But I, being the prepared fella I am, have a plan for just such an attack. I’m going to disguise myself as a 12-year-old girl and have the City take me to live in an orphanage because I’ve no family. Smart, ain’t I? Once I get into a decent orphanage, I’ll figure out my next move. I’m really sick of this arrogant Committee not giving me my well-deserved prize. We’re not done yet, Nobel Prize Committee, not by a long shot.
So, I’ve been calling Nobel Prize Committee members and breathing like Darth Vader into the phone when they answer for months now just to fuck with ’em. I’ll do, like, 300 or so calls like this on a phone, then toss it out, buy a new one, and begin all over again. This way, the authorities, whom my lawyer says want me to stop this, won’t be able to trace the calls back to me. I learned how to do this from a character in “The Wire” which was on cable a few years back. The last time I called a committee member’s house to do this, however, his 9-year-old niece answered the phone, and me, being the sly dog I am, told her I was God and that I was calling to warn her that her uncle was the Devil and was going to boil her alive in oil then feed her to wild pigs while making her mother watch. I thought for sure I’d fucked this kid’s mind up good, until I heard her handing the phone to her uncle while saying, “There’s a crazy man on the phone saying he’s God.” Well, the language that came out of that guy’s mouth when he started yelling at me was so foul, I can’t get myself to write it. He insulted my cock size and questioned whether or not I took large penises up my manhole. He hurt my feelings, and he made me cry. That just wasn’t necessary, or nice. I wouldn’t have to do shit like this if the fucking Nobel Committee would JUST GIVE ME MY HARD EARNED NOBEL PRIZE ALREADY!!! It’s not my fault I said horrible shit to that child, it’s THEIRS!!! And by God, I swear I’ll make them pay for it if it’s the last thing I do! Well, maybe not THE last, but at least close to it.
Here’s a list of some of the awesome, great shit I’ve done that no one’s noticed. In particular, the Nobel Prize Committee hasn’t noticed these things, at least not publicly, because they are prejudiced against me for my demanding a Nobel Prize from them. They are bastards for this, and I will continue to point out how nasty they are until they either give me my award or kill me. I won’t shut up otherwise. Well, that’s not true. If they gave me like, 7 million Euros, I’d shut up, but until then, I won’t. Here’s the list. I do hope you enjoy being awed by the great shit I’ve done.
1.) I visited Ancient Rome and no one cared. I was told it wasn’t there anymore. Really? I took a picture of it from the airplane I was on that PROVES it’s there!!! Can you spell, C O V E R U P?
2.) I named myself Holy Roman Emperor but got my ass kicked when I charged the Vatican with a rubber sword demanding the Pope recognize me as such. Why? Am I not pretty enough? CONSPIRACY!!!!!
3.) I met the aliens who built the Pyramids and got piss drunk with them one night in Valparaiso, Indiana. I even took pictures, and yet no one believes me. Assholes. They can deny all they want, but I KNOW the truth!!!!!
4.) I discovered the Higgs boson, like 30 years ago, but did anyone believe me? NO! They waited to give credit to other people just to piss me off! Bastards! Fucking bastards!!!!!
5.) I’ve become a Sheikh named Pontificatius, the Unshaven, yet Muslims threaten to kill me whenever I demand they blindly follow whatever I say. Bastards!!!
That’s it for now folks. I’ll report later on more of the injustices I’ve suffered, and still suffer, at the hands of the bastards on the Nobel Prize Committee for being the great person I am. They are SOOOOO jealous of me. Imperious Rex!
As most of the world knows, I like to bother people. Well, I guess it’s more of an uncontrolled obsession than a “like” really, and, as my criminal psychologist always tells me, it is, in reality, a pathological sickness that isn’t as funny as I think it as. But fuck him. What does some shrink working for “The Man” know about what’s funny, eh? I know funny. And God damn it all to Hell, the following restraining orders I’ve had filed against me in recent months are fucking hilarious. And they’re all real, too. Cause, as most of the world also knows about me, I never lie or make shit up just for the sake of making shit up. So, without further ado, here’s a list of real restraining orders that are currently in place and restraining my behavior. Legally.
1.) Morgan Freeman, the actor, has an order against me stating I must cease asking him to be my Dad. I’ve been sending him countless emails, letters, singing telegrams, and strip-o-grams begging him to be my Dad cause my real father was an asshole. I just want Mr. Freeman to take me fishing once or twice and tell me I’m good. Why in fuck’s name does he need to know who I am to do this? Really, why? Well, I guess I won’t know until 2020 when the restraining order is lifted. But I’m like Al Qaeda in that I’ve got more patience than sense and waiting to get my way has never been an issue for me.
2.) Ian McKellen has a similar order against me for the exact same reason as Mr. Freeman. Only Mr. McKellen’s was filed in Britain and has a cool accent when you read it out loud.
3.) The Nobel Prize Committee has an order against me which allows them to shoot me dead if I’m anywhere within 1000 miles of any of them at any time ever. That order has no end date, so I don’t know when I’ll get my award. But I will. Believe me, I will.
4.) Christians have an order against me which states I can not capture and eat their babies or I can be arrested. Apparently, Christian parents don’t know just how fucking delicious their babies are, cause if they did, they’d be eating them right along with me. Yummy, yum, yum, yum!
Bye for now.