Captain Kendrastic Fucking sunk your Bastard Minesweeper

Written by Life

Beijing, China

Happy birthday to me. Okay, so it was a couple days ago, but if you look at the amount of candy wrappers and discarded chocolatey items strewn all over the house, you would assume I’m still celebrating. You’d be right.

In fit of nostalgia turned curiosity turned morbid curiosity, I started pawing through the Sent Folder of my email box. I don’t actually know why, because reading what I’ve written in the past usually leaves me wondering how many times a week I’m possessed, and what the Demon of Convolution wants with my mortal shell.

And now you will share in my horror as I quote myself.

– Tell me how all that works out for you, and especially tell me about Boston when you go! I’ve never spent any time on the East Coast except in Florida, which, like I said, I’m selling to the Russians to fund the revolution. The Russians will be happy because they’ll finally own a little peice of the tropical climate, and the old people and dumb motherfuckers that live in Florida will be happy because they will all get beaten by ex-soviet KGB agents every time they say “Long Live the USA!”. When I make the sale to them, it’s going to come with two conditions: 1) They re-open the gulags and I get to choose who goes to jail, and 2) They teach me to talk like Natasha from Rocky and Bullwinkle so I can say “Vee go to keel moose and sqweerel!” What were we talking about? Right. Boston.”

– One of your kickboxing instructors is a pastor? Does he say stuff like: “Jesus gives me the power to STOMP your FACE!”?

– My second day at work, one of the executives asked me to put an appointment on his schedule, to which I replied “I CANNA DOO IT, CAP’N! I DOAN ‘AVE THE POWER!”, which, to my chagrin, was lost on him and everyone else in the room. I don’t know how much longer I’ll last here, as working for people who don’t know their Star Trek is embarassing.

– Speaking of Salinger, didn’t get around to reading the short story yet, as I was doing more important things on Urban75.com, like playing Mr. Insult’s Battleships. “I fucking sunk your bastard minesweeper!” is my new battlecry, in liu of “Hajimemashite!”

– You’re the only guy I know who’s gotten in a fight at a burrito restaurant. I don’t know weather to laugh or cry.

-Yeah, when I’m Tyrant of the World, my bread will require an exact number of salt granules to be distributed per square inch of dough.

– I told Jesus that I’d be pious and good if everything worked out for you, but I think he knows I’d totally bitch out on that as soon as he delivered, so you’re on your own.

– Just remember the magic acronym SEAT! It’s from the Kendra’s Places Not to Cut Yourself pamphlet, so say it with me: “Scrotum, Eyeballs, Achillies, Tongue! SEAT!”

Also, discovered my nickname used to be “Captain Kendrastic”. In some circles.

Will write again when cerebrum returns to upright and locked position.