You know what pisses me off? People. Yes, you've read that correctly - people make me angry, 'I-want-to-punch-you-in-the-back-of-your-head' angry. However, it's not every kind of person that manages to pull this feat off. Oh no, it's a particular group of people I would like to call: 'I'd-like-you-to-punch-me-in-the-back-of-the-head' people.

Well, you're a pacifist you say? Or you claim that you love everybody you meet? In that case, I feel that it's my moral obligation as part of this evolved society, and also your right to know that you belong to one of the aforementioned categories - and guess what, it's not the one in bold. For the rest of us who occasionally get irked by the oblivious ones, I urge you to act on your innate instincts as a pugilist and smite them in the back of the head with your clenched fist of fury.

So remember my words the next time you sit beside that guy who refuses to keep his legs still, making you feel like you have a cell phone the size of a cereal box vibrating in your seat, or the guy that sees fit to clean his nasal cavity midway through a less than engrossing lecture, or the overly zealous student who finds it necessary to ask questions like: "Is the test gonna be hard?", and remove the fist you've been using to prop up your hurting head with, then pummel the imbecile while screaming: "It's gonna be hard if you don't fucking study, you retard!", thereby relieving you and those around of a splitting headache and curing the individual of his foolishness and social failure.

Moreover, you should know that helping someone learn his mistakes is not only your moral imperative, but also equivalent to saving a cute, furry baby animal. Hence, don't ever hesitate to start the healing process because we all love cute and furry baby animals, don't we?

I don't care what anyone says, but a vintage T-shirt with Lion-O on it is nothing short of 'phat'. Oh yes, I'm talking about the Thundercats. And just in case any of you young folks out there missed out on this old-school animated series, or if you just need a memory jog, click here - at the courtesy of wikipedia: the internet's most comprehensive encyclopedia. (Indeed, I've sold my blogger's integrity out to turn to a life of corporate whoring, or at least I'm hoping to.)

Back to the Thundercats, I can see why some would think that happy, fully-grown cats with rippling bodies, possessing a wardrobe that consists solely of leotards and oversized swords would come off as queer. However, acceptance of such gaiety (no pun intended) is an indication that one is secure about his masculinity, don't you think?

So screw you, if you don't like my shirt, because I think it's cool and that's all that matters. GO Thundercats, Snarf, snarf!




On a side note, I'm handling out a second set of congrats to _____(you know who you are). Looks like I'll be shopping for vintage T-shirts on my own from now on, you bastards.