It was the idea of a lifetime. Who could top this? Write about pro-wrestling being responsible for world peace and create the single-greatest internet image yet to be seen by man. Hulk Hogan and Jesus shaking hands. But when I sat down to draw, something magical happened. Something much better than two of the world’s most popular figures creating everlasting world peace with a single touch of the hands. I gave birth to this art baby:
As you can see, I elected to title the piece “When Hulk Hogan Met Jesus” anyway. There’s no doubt in my mind that this works. A man, who could probably pass for Jesus from behind, is reaching out to and possibly petting a large, furry animal. Coincidentally, this animal has Hulk Hogan’s haircut. Fifty years from now, I’ll pretend that scholars somewhere are arguing that the look in “Hulk Hogan’s” eyes represents the moment that he first realized he was partially responsible for world peace.
Like most great artists, I didn’t realize I had created a masterpiece. I felt frustrated. I needed to focus on the handshake. The handshake was the most important part, after all. Handshake. Hands:
Handsuits. Two men. One the Satanic spawn of The Joker and Marilyn Manson; the other with one eye, a headband and a suit that doesn’t even fit. Both wearing handsuits. What is a handsuit? Some things are better off when they’re left open for discussion. I was finally able to sit back and admire my work. The details, the subtle imagery. What it was saying about today’s society. The tiny hand, the pointy hand, the lack of feet. Just everything. Knowing that Handsuits will undoubtedly be made into a feature film one day has put me at peace with my life.
The next time you dream about world peace, just remember this. Maybe it doesn’t really take Hulk Hogan and Jesus shaking hands. Maybe all we really need in this dangerous world of ours are a couple of handsuits.
I’ve heard of a green thumb before, but never a peen thumb. It seems to me that this garden would be a perfect candidate to be the main character in The Secret Garden but there’s nothing secret about it. A large, growing penis in the middle of the front yard. I can’t even imagine how many penis enhancement e-mails had to be opened in order to achieve that size. Let there be no question who has the biggest dick on the block.
The one thing that you’ve got to admire is the dick’s willingness to engulf itself in latex. What a great hands on model for neighborhood teens to learn how to wrap it up. You see kids? Even the world’s biggest dick wears protection!
Dropping temperatures make me feel sympathetic for this unrealistically huge penis that I’d normally be jealous of. Forced to live outside in the cold and snow, I can’t imagine the amounts of shrinkage that poor Dick will have to deal with. This gives blue balls a whole new meaning.
People make decisions everyday. Some people choose safety. These are the smart ones. These are the ones that live long, wonderful lives. Did I mention they’re rich? Then we have the Satan spawn, the danger mongers. The “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” assholes. These are the people that fuck around with danger and then have the balls to ask it on a second date. They wind up in jail. Or bloody. Or DEAD. Do you want to die?
These are a few examples of ways to practice safety and avoid danger.
DON’T TRUST THAT GOD DAMN WEATHER MAN
His forecast is fulla shit! Trust Grampy! He’s never lied to you before, has he Scout? Stay dry all the time, like me! Ya see! My skin is flaking off as we speak!
IT’S ALWAYS GAME TIME
Keep that helmet on. You’re never out of the game! What’s that? Coach is talking to you through a magical ear piece? Spring into action and wrap danger up for a big safety! Safety spankings for the whole team!
DON’T BECOME CREEPY UNDERWEAR MAN
You say it’s just a one time thing. Just today, you’re going to go down to the park in your underwear. Never again, just this one time. But once you get there, the sunlight reflecting off of your shiny, satin bikini briefs changes your life. Every waking hour goes into becoming Creepy Underwear Man. Different colors, different textures, different glitter-to-fabric ratios. Underwear to family dinners. Underwear to work. You never went to the library before, but fuck it, underwear to the library too.
There is an important lesson buried somewhere in this sacred text. Only those that continue to practice safety will recognize this lesson. Always remember, safety first.
It was a wild scene in the Sanborn, NY based studios of WADS FM late Saturday night. Long time radio personality “Mad Dog” “Killer” Mike met a tragic fate after literally exploding on air. Firefighters that arrived on the scene soon after the unfortunate incident were flabbergasted at what they saw.
“I ran in there real quick. There was nothing I could do. A real rock and roll fireball, that guy. I’ve heard people say that it’s better to burn out than fade away. Well Mike took that advice and blew it up. He just wasn’t even there anymore,” said station producer Kip Shlumpoff.
Investigators are looking into what caused the explosion. A Fellow WADS DJ, fifty-six year old “Bangin” Megan Reagan provided some insight.
“He just seemed like he was done. He didn’t want to be a classic rock DJ anymore. He had been doing a lot of yelling and screaming about the songs he was playing, the same exact format day in and day out. He’d been doing this for twenty-two years now. I did hear him say that if he ever had to play ‘Pinball Wizard’ again that he hoped his ‘head exploded and millions of tiny brain particles rained down on everyone in this fucking studio and this God damn shitty sound board.'”
Coincidence? “Pinball Wizard” by The Who was the last song “Mad Dog” “Killer” Mike would ever attempt to play.
“You could just hear it in his voice. He really fucking hated pinball. When he introed that song, he was almost screaming. He sounded like he might explode. The fact that he actually did is just unbelievable but I saw it coming,” said a man who later admitted that he wasn’t even listening to the station at the time of the incident.
Meanwhile, classic rock fans in the Western New York community are reeling.
“Dude, ‘Mad Dog’ ‘Killer’ was the only decent radio DJ in the world. He wasn’t a huge douchebag like every other classic rock DJ you’re forced to sit through, bragging about hot babes and their Ace Frehley signed dick holder,” said a twenty-three year old who tried to hide his Styx t-shirt behind a flannel but failed.
In the wake of this tragedy, DJ rights group activists are pushing for reform. Hoping to avoid another on-air incident, the groups are calling for the banning of several songs from mainstream radio including Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’.” A spokesperson for the rights group indicated to me that the Journey hit is believed to be the song most likely to cause future explosions in and around the head area. The groups are also pushing a law that would require all DJs to wear a helmet while broadcasting in order to prevent possible future head explosions.
A “heavy metal screamatorium” memorial service will be held on Wednesday night at the bowling alley next to the station’s studios. Live music will be provided by Fire and Falcons, a “thunderforce of painful rock and roll ear sex.” Even fans of The Who are welcome to attend.