Xtreme Dinner For Two?
What in the hell is wrong with people now-a-days with their obsession of dying as quickly as humanly possible; specifically this guy? He’s referred to as the Lion Whisperer, but soon will probably just be called by his more affectionate name: The Lion Fodder. Below is a photo of him getting gang
rapped raped (damn you spellchecker, you’ve let me down for the last time) by a couple of lions I think?
I’m taking bets on when this guy will officially assume room temperature. The over/under is 18 months. If you can also guess the method of his demise then it’ll double your winnings. I’m going with him meeting his maker due to a simple surgical infection. He’ll acquire said infection at the hospital after the failed attempt to reattach his face to his head.
It may surprise you all, but this article got me thinking, and I actually have an opinion about this. I know what you’re thinking — me, with an opinion? So, I have this theory, as to why we as humans—and crazy white people in particular—have this desire to risk our lives like the idiot pictured above. It started about 65 years ago when our grandfathers were told they had to jump out of an airplane over Germany with 100lbs of weapons and rations. It went sort of like this… “Don’t worry soldier, you’ll just coast down gently to the ground using this silk sheet. Just try not to get a hole in it (aka, don’t let those Nazi bastards shoot a hole in it). Oh, did we fail to mention the Nazis shooting at you part?” This is the point where your pop-pop was kicked out of the airplane at 20,000 feet over Berlin.
Well, these same guys came home—minus half a million or so—and made sweet love to our grandmothers on the streets of New York in the middle of a parade celebrating their victory. Poof!, our parents are born. Well, not both our parents from the same couple, but you get the point. [Editor’s Note: Yes, I know I missed the perfect opportunity there at joking about the apparent inbreeding that supposedly occurs in small town USA, predominantly in the southern portion of the country. Let me just say this about that – lies, lies, lies! That’s a horrible myth, spread by the evil yankee imperial scum just to our north. Take me for instance. I have never had consensual sexual relations with any direct blood relative that was any closer than second cousin, so screw you and your fancy book learnin’ yankee!]
Anyway, so our grandfather had our father and when our father turned 18 he was told to jump out of a helicopter over Korea and/or Vietnam with 50lbs (thank God for the advent of aluminum cans) of weapons and rations. “Just look out down there in them there woods for booby traps. Don’t worry soldier, you’ll be protected by this napalm that we’ll be fire bombing your surrounding jungle with to ensure your safety. What’s napalm you ask? Well, imagine a type of strawberry jelly or jam. Now add a lot of acid and gasoline to it, giving it the important characteristics necessary to burn a hole… through the f**king space/time continuum. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to do a little surfing for Robert Duval too.
So, our fathers come back home—minus 50,000 or so—and made sweet love to our mothers on the streets of New York during a peace march as people walked by and spit on them while chanting “baby killer, baby killer!” Poof!, we are born.
Fast forward to our generation. Just about since our inception we have been trying to kill ourselves in crazy ways. Why? For the rush man, that’s why! Our grandfathers jumped out of airplanes and saved the world, and so shall we damn it! We even invented a “special olympics” for extreme sports, called the X-Games. And don’t get me started on that whole joke of a sporting event. It was cute when you were 13, getting high, shaving animal shapes into your head, and doing skateboard tricks in the parking lot of a doctor’s office; but now it’s just sad. Go buy some grown up clothes, get a grown man’s haircut, do some grown up drugs, and get a grown up job.
Yes, I know you have no education or employable skill set (aside from performing totally gnarly pop shuvits) that allow you to contribute to society like a normal person, but at least you could try. Yes, yes, of course you’ll fail miserably and disappoint your parents, like always, but at least you’ll be able to tell all your illegitimate grandchildren about that “time you tried” back in the olden days. Then you can ride off on your skateboard, pushing it with a cane.
Skateboarding is not a crime you say? I’m not quite sure when you found the time to acquire your law degree from DeVry; well between all the skating, and weed smoking, and masturbating to late night TV in your mom’s basement, but skateboarding is a crime when posted (check out the length of that video). F**king stoners!!!!!
If it’s not a crime, someone down at the station really needs to let officer friendly in the video know about it. Wow, did a skateboard molest him as a child maybe? Regardless, keep up the good work officer. Joke Time: What’s the hardest part about being a 25 year old skateboarder? Having to tell your parents your gay. Extreme stupidity, the most extreme of the extreme sports.
Where in the hell was I? Oh right, our need to die young. Our forefathers (or two fathers in this example) stormed the beaches of Normandy, took control of strategic islands in the south pacific at great human loss, dug trenches to fight and hold off communism, and we, well, uh, invented bungee jumping??? We were created from the seed of the seed that stopped the spread of fascism; and the seed that stopped the spread of communism. We were predestined to have to stand in a huge shadow cast by these giants. Surprisingly enough, extreme hacky-sack didn’t stand a chance.
So, I guess it’s in our genetic makeup to want to save the planet and stop tyranny, but we got stuck in the 80’s and 90’s. So, to remedy this shortcoming we invented new ways to “save the planet” by fighting Chlorofluorocarbons. Those CFC Bastards! Take that styrofoam coffee cups! We did it! We stopped the evil spread of coffee cups from taking over the planet. Out of Poland with you styrofoam. Now, where’s our f**king parade?
Even better than us inventing psychoses such as being narcissistic enough to think we could actually destroy the planet with little cups, we decided to invent new ways to actually almost kill ourselves. Hey guys, let’s go spelunking down this giant f**king chasm in the side of this frozen mountain! F**king cool man. We’re amazing. But we could die? I know, right!?!?! Take that war hero grandpa!
History is chocked full of crazy people who did things “extreme” and dangerous. Flying a kite in a thunder storm, building a device with wings and jumping off a cliff, strapping themselves into a rocket and luanching into outerspace. These inventors put themselves in mortal danger in the quest to do something great. Correct me if I’m wrong there Chip Johnson (or is it Biff Johnson?), but I can’t think of a damn thing being invented from jumping out of a helicopter in snow skies and onto the top of a double black diamond mountain, besides maybe inventing new ways to create orphans.
This new generation that’s currently fighting the war on terror won’t have much time for such “important” matters as inventing extreme basketball, base jumping, or music television. They’ll only get to protect us, and fight for us, and die for us, while we on the other hand get to invent the new extreme <insert un-extreme event here>. I got it… Extreme Blogging. I’m thinking about only doing extreme blogging from now on. Let me explain. This entire post was written while I had my pants off at work. Well, not completely off, but around the ole ankles. No one noticed since I was at my desk the whole time. Extreme man! Eat your heart out pops.
Or maybe I’ll just climb in a cage full of wild killer animals—such as lions—and show how extremely badass I am. Extremely unlikely. Wait, I mean Xtremely unlikely.