STUMP THE BLOGGER

I'm sitting down so much in an average day that my lower body has started to shut down. Well, most of it, anyway. Eventually I'll have to amputate my legs. I will, of course, perform the surgery myself. You people with high deductibles on your health insurance understand where I'm coming from.

This is not funny.

I plan to use a rusty butter knife and some Ben Gay for anesthesia. Afterward, I will forego a wheelchair in favor of propelling myself monkey-style with my massively powerful arms. I will move back to my old neighborhood, which has a higher than average number of midgets. There, I will feel more at home with people who, like me, resemble circus people. In a good way.

Totally not funny.

My goal is to prove that even without legs, I can continue to live the mostly unproductive life that I had before I became a scary freak that you should awkwardly stare at as we pass each other. I'm not a hero. I just believe in America. So as you wipe that single, crimson tear rolling down your cheek, overcome with emotion as you are, just remember one thing. I'm better than you.

At half staff in honor of my legs. And probably some dead guy, too. Git 'er done!

WHO ARE YOU? WHO WHO, WHO WHO? I'M FABULOUS!

Why does every guy on those CSI shows look like a fashionable homosexual? The safest place on earth has got to be Studio 54. Who would dare commit a murder there?

"Man, I just wanna dance!"

Poor Gary Sinise. He looks like a man who knows he's got another 20 minutes to wait before that bowel movement comes out. The most wooden actor in Hollywood somehow got stuck on a show with preening runway model scientists/cops/expert interrogators.

"Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto."

Let's not even get started with David Caruso. Sunglasses don't disguise the fact that you're 90 years old. You suck, David Caruso. Your acting is so hammy, you could play Batman.

Can you tell who's who?

And thanks for ruining not one, but three great Who songs. Now when I hear them, I have to think of those crappy shows instead of whether Pete Townshend is a child molester. Yeahhhhhhhh!

DUST IN THE WIND

Wouldn't it be great if old people were forced into euthanasia at age 65? How does that benefit you? Let us count the ways.

1) The cost of a round of 18 holes would come crashing down because of light demand, a good thing for Asians and those of us on a tight budget.

"No biggie. We'll still have 2 billion people."

2) My dream of fitting all human beings with flashing red lights on the palms of their hands, like in Logan's Run, would finally come true.

It's good for reading at night, too.

3) Pussy politicians won't have to worry about reforming Social Security. Just keep it. No one will ever get their money anyway. Now the government can spend it on worthy causes like the Anal Cancer Institute of Concord, California.

The Anal Cancer Institute

4) You can finally stick it to your dad, like you always wanted to. With dignity, of course.

"Kids, stop throwing flowers on Grandma. She's not dead yet."

5) All my high school teachers will be eligible.

Bet you wish you didn't give me a C in English now, Mr. Dingleberry.

6) And finally, because unlike Trix, abortion isn't just for kids.