Some people call this list their “bucket” list, but that sounds stupid. My list of cool things to do before I die is simply called my Awesome list. Been done before, right? 101 things to do before you die, YAWN… Hasn’t been done like this, trust me. This is shit you really want to do.
By the way, that is not my hand. My hands are not fat and gay.
Why, you ask? Why not? Hi, we’re Nickelback and we have torn jeans, oh and we’re from Canada, eh. Before you judge me on destroying Nickelback, please hear me out. Just for fun, let’s round Nickelback up in a huge cargo net. Dip the net in gasoline and then set it ablaze. Sounds fun so far, right?
We will be near the Canadian boarder, maybe around the Niagara Falls area, then we’ll catapult the cargo netted, flaming band back to Canada where, upon arrival, the Canadian authorities can decide whether to stomp on the fire and save them or just let them burn out. Canada’s choice. Nothing against Nickelback, I just think every song sounds the same, and they suck. What does this accomplish? Well, I guess nothing, but tell me setting Nickelback on fire and catapulting them back over to Canada wouldn’t be entertaining as hell.
Get in a speed boat chase with another boat and possibly a helicopter:
The result of this = KICK ASS. Imagine you standing up driving a speed boat, wind in your face, looking back at another 2 or 3 boats chasing you and along comes a helicopter. Now, you will need some cool sun glasses and probably some decent sideburns to complete this awesome adventure. Remember the standing up part too – it is not only suggested when driving a chased speed, boat it’s pretty much required.
If we really want to go nuts – and we do – throw in some fire, a boat jump and cops on land shooting at you. Tell me why this shouldn’t be on everyone’s awesome list? How does this turn out, probably with me narrowly escaping and with my pursuers blowing up or shaking their fist in frustration as I drive away laughing with a wry smile, shaking my head, like that was close this time.
Win the lottery, a big lottery. No, a huge mofo lottery:
I’m not talking about winning $50,000 or even a couple of million dollars. I’m talking about winning hundreds of millions of dollars. I want to win a stupid amount of money and really show my ass after I have all this cash. I want to be bigger than the law, I want to have so much I could bring 2Pac back to life. (Damn, that’s a lot of money, right?) I have 2 kids and a smart wife so sure, a lot will be for security and college funds. But, I want enough money to blow it on a lot of stupid stuff, example:
Hire Carrot top for the day, whatever the cost and have me and my friends bombard him with insults and countless pies to the face until he either quits, cries or accepts his money at the end of the day. Either way, that’s a good time. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with this guy?
I also want an assistant and I want that assistant to have an assistant. Not because I’ll be that busy but it would pretty damn cool to tell someone to contact my assistant’s assistant. I think that would demand a lot of respect. Plus my assistant could be cool and only do the fun shit, the grunt work could go to the jerk-off 2nd tier assistant. It will go from GOD to me to my assistant to my assistant’s assistant. That’s how my reservations to the Outback would get handled.
I would also hire bands to play for me as well. Not for my birthday mind you, that’s too old and tired. Cool bands will preform for me because it’s Tuesday. “Hey let’s go over to Rich’s tonight, I think JAY-Z is cutting it up at his place later.” “What’s the occasion?” The occasion is Rich is awesome. That’s like a catch all, isn’t it? Because Rich is awesome.
Go out to dinner with Chuck Norris and Tim Tebow:
Why? Because I can, that’s why. Do you really need any other reason, because you’re not getting one. If you really need one, get away from my blog now. Tebow will be insisting to give me his Heisman trophy and Chuck Norris will want me to break boards with my bare hands. At the end of dinner they will both be arguing about who will pay for dinner. I will tell them both to shut up and I’ll pay for it with my black American Express. What’s that? If you have to ask, then you don’t need to know.
It’s not an AMEX for African Americans only though, in case you were wondering. Is that racist?
Go to X-Games and get presented with coolest person alive award, in a special ceremony:
X-Games competitors are pretty cool and usually young and hip. So, to get recognized by everyone as the coolest person there, that would be a great honor. I’ll receive my award, which is a crown, saber (saber will be like a king’s although I’m not against it being a light saber from Star Wars) and fur coat. I’ll then give the half head nod to Shaun White as he passes by me.
He’ll try to ask me to join him at the bar later but I’ll pretend not to hear him through the throngs of hot women surrounding my gate as I walk down the corridors. Quick tip – cool ass people walk the corridors, halls are for the lame-ass sheep. Also, not enough to be surrounded by women, they must be hot women. Anyone can be surrounded by a bunch of female zero’s. By the way, before you try to snap me back into reality, this is my AWESOME list okay? Anything I say goes.
Attend a clown funeral:
First off, you don’t have the balls to tell me that wouldn’t be entertaining. I would like to see how many clowns they could fit in the coffin and also if any of them would ride a unicycle to the memorial. Also, how did the clown die? Exploding cigar, trip on his big shoes, fell down a well? Anyway, I think going to a clown funeral would kick ass and it would be something I would tell everyone about, therefore it must be cool. You think clowns would have different outfits to wear to a funeral, like their funny, but sad clothes. Alas, nope, same raggedy, saggy shitty outfits for all clown occasions. By the way, is there a 21 nose honk salute to the fallen clown? I seem to have lots of questions about this clown funeral I may or may not attend.
Fire a flame thrower, at the weeds in my yard:
The wife: “Honey, can you please take care of the weeds outside?” Me: “I sure can!” Because taking care of the weeds outside shouldn’t be that hard and dammit, it’s time to show the weeds who is in charge. A nicely placed flame thrower will do the trick and then some. Tell me holding a flame-throwing and killing yard work in the process wouldn’t totally rock. Might also deter those smart ass kids from playing in your yard. “Hey you ethnic’s, get off my lawn,” (Gran Torino reference).
I have just scratched the surface here on my Awesome list. I have a lot more on my list and it grows daily. This is a good start though and trust me, I’ll share more as the awesomeness presents itself to me. It comes to me like Jesus in my dreams. Only Jesus is a hot chick with cool-ass blog ideas and tasty imported beer and glazed doughnuts. Man, I love Jesus. The hot, beer-chick with glazed doughnuts, Jesus. That one.
That’s all for now pimps.