I lied, I don’t understand. I’m sorry, I just wanted to look like one of the cool kids. Nothing the Japanese do makes sense to me. Everything is wrong, and unholy, and what on Earth have they done to Tommy Lee Jones? He used to be in big-time movies, now he’s an extra in ads for tentacles or whatever. I’m not even sure of what they’re selling and I really don’t want to know. I have enough trouble deciphering American ads. I have no shot when the main character is a dog talking about Tommy Lee Jones’ eyebrows while saying he’s their alien housekeeper. Commercials for pickup trucks confuse me; this blows my mind out of my ears and then expects me to understand the finer points of quantum mechanics.
I don’t know whether to be scared or slightly aroused. While regular old Indians are more than enough to get me excited, when you throw in fantastically choreographed fights and huge muscles all around, I’m not sure I can contain myself. I didn’t even know there were that many muscular Indians available. Maybe they hired an entire IT call center to get juiced up for the film, but that seems like it would take a while.
The video offers such a thoroughly unusual combination of Western culture and Eastern weirdness. The sheer amount of masculinity exuded by every frame is incalculable. The testosterone seeped through the screen and entered my pores. I grew a full, bushy mustache after the first minute of viewing. After two minutes I grew an extra foot and put on one-hundred pounds of pure muscle.
I’ve already gone to far. If I watch past the three-minute mark I feel like the sheer amount of manliness will rip a hole through time and space and the Indian version of Arnold Schwarzenegger will swoop in and ask if I’m happy with my current Internet service provider. While that’s not necessarily a bad thing, I have stuff to do tomorrow, and I really don’t have time to drag myself out of a roid-rage wormhole, again.
I’m not quite sure what you could do with something made from solid aluminum, but you can totally make it now. I mean, it would look pretty cool, I guess. A gun that doesn’t shoot sort of defeats the purpose. If you flip it around it can make for an alright club, but you’d be better off making a bat if you really want to bash some heads. At least it’s shiny.
I feel like a lot of the epic life hack videos on YouTube aren’t even trying to be helpful anymore. This one is cool and everything, but it doesn’t really apply to me, anyone I know, or anyone I have ever met, ever. At least he’s not telling me that I’m supposed to cut banana peels off with a laser instead of using my hands, or that it’s easier to open a soda can if you run it over with your car, or that you can suck Marmite out of a squirrel if you’re lost in the wilderness. Videos like that are silly and I refuse to submit to them. I know how to peel a banana. Don’t tell me how to peel a banana. I don’t care how monkeys do it; they throw their poo and eat bugs. I’m a man, I can peel my own bananas, thank you.
If epic nice life hacks for your life videos got any less helpful they’d become eHow videos, and the world doesn’t need more eHow videos.
Okay Fido, Fetch Me A Large Meatball Sub With Extra Gravy And Sprinkles On Top
I wish someone would throw tacos at me. Pets are treated like royalty these days. When was the last time someone threw a slice of pizza at you? Probably hasn’t happened, but this dog is getting delicious food thrown at him every day. Why do we stand for such injustice? Why have we formed an organization to protect animals, but not an organization to protect delicious food? As god as my witness, I’m going to found People for the Ethical Treatment of Hamburgers as soon as I can be bothered to get out of bed.
He’s giving that dog people food, and that really grinds my gears. Before you know it, the dog will be sitting on the couch, watching TV, getting hair everywhere, and making an absolute mess because he thinks he’s a person. Outrageous. People get people food, and dogs get dog food; that’s the way it’s always been and always should be. On occasion you can throw your dog what’s left of a massive t-bone steak, so you can feel like the king of a medieval domain, feeding your noble hunting dogs with table scraps when you run out of slow-moving peasants. Other than that, no people food.
What I’m really trying to get at, is that you shouldn’t be throwing perfectly good food away like that. You should be giving it to me. I’m so much better than a dog. Dogs can’t thank you after eating all your food. Dogs can’t fix your toilet in return for croissants. A dog can’t sit in their bathrobe and stink up your living room while eating soup out of a mason jar. I can do all of that — and I won’t poop on your carpet.