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I Ain’t No Punk B1tch…Don’t Nobody Tell Me To Watch Out For Jaws

December 18, 2010

I was gonna swim in the ocean the other day when the Life Guard said, “Careful, Sir, had a shark sighting two days ago.”

That kind’a pi$$ed me off.

“What’chu say, man?”

“Careful, could be sharks out there.”

I proceeded to sing Kiss From A Rose by Seal.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Sir. Sharks are attracted to seals and blood.”

I punched myself in the nose, blood gushed.

I smeared blood on my fingers and wrote, “Dear Jaws, I swim like those people in your movie…you can catch me and eat me real easy. Any new JAWS sequels coming up? I’d love to watch them after we meet.”

I wrote that on my ribs because sharks usually eat legs and thighs and I wanted to give them something else to eat, besides, I ain’t no scary chicken.

“Sir, I hope you swim really good because sharks go after wounded prey.”

I thought about my girl who had just dumped me for the muscular guy up the beach and it broke my heart just thinking about it…I was wounded.

“Sir, please don’t go out there like a bloody, wounded seal. The sharks’ll eat you alive.”

I dove head-first into a big wave so it could throw me to shore and kill me so Jaws couldn’t eat me alive, but I didn’t die.

Instead, I ended up in the hospital with a broken nose, broken heart, broken back and a broken windshield…the wave flung my a$$ all the way to the parking lot.

Don’t nobody tell me to watch out for Jaws.

I ain’t no punk b1tch.


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