So, what if shitting our pants is what causes death? I've been close to death then once or twice, but I went home to shower before going back to work (luckily I was on a lunch break). But the shower didn't really make sense, my theory is that shit carries the thoughts and powers of the animals that ate the food that created the turds that fertilized the ground (see, I'm a vegetarian). So, I wake up and bench press a white tiger every morning in order to ensure a full day of successfully channeling the power of dogs. Because when you're a dog everything rules and if it sucks it only sucks for a second. See, my body is a jerk. I wish I had a beak. IF I HAD A BEAK I WOULD GNAW ON MY HAND.
So, whatever dudes. I'm living life to the xtreme. And fuck the letter E if it's capitalized and tuesday's are such bullshit that I won't even capitalize it anymore. That shit's for old men and people with no hope.