GUEST COLUMN: Somebody End My Miserable Existence – Tony the Tiger, Gas Station Mascot

Off the Wire

… Approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

– William Cullen Bryant, “Thanatopsis”

 

GROSSE TETE – Someone, anyone: Fetch a gun, put it to my head, and squeeze the trigger. I don’t care who you are, but do it quickly. Do it now.

Forced between a “life” of being whored for gasoline in a place that’s about 7,000 degrees hotter than my DNA ever intended, or freedom at the hands of whiny, Birkenstock-wearing environmentalist pussies, I choose a bullet to my Bengal cranium.

I’m tired of being the subject of litigation and the nuance of state legislation.

Perhaps barbaric captivity and raison d’être for self-righteous, glory-mongering naturalists is some perverse justice for my erstwhile noble breed. After all, if I had entered this world just a few centuries ago, I would have been hunting down your children and eating them while you watched, sobbing in horror with puny little flint-tipped spears in hand.

But I’m tired of being the subject of litigation and the nuance of state legislation. I’ve grown weary of these gawking TV cameramen and smelly, sweaty tourists in the midst of Stuckey’s pecan roll withdrawal.

This concrete floor is itchy, and now I long for the sweet release that only death can bring.RedShtick-Top-ColumnStop

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