Whatever you need…

Most of y’all know about my current ordeal. No need to rehash that right now. But I did want to thank my friends who’ve reached out to me via facebook, emails, phone calls, and sitdowns. Y’all have been great. I’m thankful for your well wishes and prayers.

One of the most commonly uttered sentiments has been “whatever you need, just let me know.” I certainly appreciate the gesture, but are you simply offering me your best wishes? Or are you really offering to do anything? Because you never know how I’ll try to take advantage of that offer.

That dreaded phone call in the middle of night? That probably won’t be a cry for help. That will be a demand for more beer money. So you’ll need to hightail it to some fetid watering hole ASAP, lest an empty wallet thwart my attempts to pickle my liver. You offered to do anything. Now cough up some filthy lucre.

Or it might be a request that you come over and mow my lawn immediately. I don’t care about the time, noise ordinances, or the utter triviality of said request. You offered to do anything. Now start edging my sidewalk.

I already asked for a flamethrower and a jetpack. I’m still waiting. For the past 20 years, I’ve wanted to wreak havoc like Fireball in “The Running Man.” My grandfather would beam with pride if he could see me fly around and burn crap simultaneously. You offered to do anything. Now get on the horn with General Dynamics and Blackwater.

 

Never mind my Heisman Trophy or “The Dirty Dozen.” This should have been the most badass thing I ever did. I have a flamethrower/jetpack combo, for Pete’s sake!)

And he definitely would want a bus full of babes dressed in superhero costumes to whisk me away to some fancy Japanese restaurant, where spandex-clad honeys would feed me sushi and sake until I puked. You offered to do anything. Now start cyberstalking some of those attention-needy gals who torment nerds at comic cons.

Because, really, what’s better than hot babes who are a tad geeky and willing to dress up like a funnybook character?

And I can assure you, my grandfather would want those cosplay cuties to look like this:

But I realize that’s a high standard. The next one is kinda scary and she violates my general rule about not cavorting with gals with biceps bigger than mine, but she’ll do.

And this is clearly unacceptable.

It’s time to call these bluffs. You offered to do anything. Now get to work.

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