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I Ain’t No Punk B1tch…Don’t Nobody Tell Me How To Walk Down No Pyramids

March 29, 2010

I was on top of a great pyramid in Mexico, ready to trek back down when the tour guide, dressed in Aztec garb said, “Watch your step, señor.”

That kind’a bothered me.

I was like, “What’chu say, man?”

“Please watch your step.  It’s very steep and a long way down.”

“We ain’t that far up,” I replied.

The Goodyear blimp then cruised by my head . . . the pilot slid his window open, “It is pretty far down, señor.”

That bothered me more.

I tied my shoelaces together, tied a blindfold around my eyes and tied the Aztec tour guide’s leg to the blimp . . . everything fell into place . . . I was ready.

I faced away from the pyramid steps, waved bye to the Aztec guide’s horrific screams and the screech of his nails scraping along the pyramid as the blimp dragged him off to hella altitude.

I then prepared for my amazing, athletic journey down the pyramid and hopped onto the first step . . . and fell . . . hard . . . real fvcking hard, it hurt . . . and tumbled . . . and rolled . . . and cussed.

About halfway down, I took out a group of midget tourists.

These poor little guys had helped each other up by interlocking their tiny fingers and boosting each other up every step.

It had taken them four days to scale halfway up the pyramid but only thirty seconds to roll their little asses back down to the bottom.

It was their own fault.  They had refused to be stuffed in my backpack to be carried up or to call me “daddy.”

If they would’ve just called me “daddy”, I would’ve grabbed them by their little wrists, flung them up two, three steps at a time, like I had done with my own children.

Being called “daddy” was all I asked . . . and to claim them on my taxes.

Ten minutes later . . . THUMP!  I slammed down at the foot of the pyramid on my back.

And who do I see coming at me?  The Aztec tour guide, dangling by his leg from the blimp, his fist cocked, and the midgets.  If you think midgets waddle a lot naturally, watch how they waddle after they tumble down a pyramid.

I hopped to my feet,  sprinted eight inches and fell flat on my face . . . I forgot I had tied my shoelaces together.

No biggie, I took my ass-whoopin’ like a man and found out I was initiated into the Midget Aztec gang.

Don’t nobody tell me how to walk down no pyramids.

I ain’t no punk b1tch.


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