There are plenty of things I want to do before I die. Perhaps there are things that stop me now; jail, embarrassment, an unknown lifespan. I have compiled a list of things I would like to do before I die, though my aspirations are more fantastical in nature:
1. I want to irrationally unleash a verbal tirade upon the cashier who tells me (with attitude) how to complete a debit card transaction. That little electronic box thingie…told me to swipe my card and the picture beside it explains what way. Furthermore, after I do, it tells me to enter my pin number. Not you jerk cashier who is too busy being “helpful” to make fresh coffee! You be quiet! I know to enter my pin number because like the majority of Americans born before the Civil War, I have been taught how to read. One day, just one, I want to look up and say “This device does not need a hype man aiight? Do not repeat what it says!”
2. I would love to own a T-Rex and train it. I can only imagine how awesome it would be to take it on a walk. Furthermore encouraging to poop in the yards of people I do not like. There is no way dinosaur poop is small. I learned everything I need to know about creating a dinosaur from Jurassic Park and fully intend on making preparations to produce a pet forthwith.
3. I want to spend an entire day in public acting like a two-year old. I feel this task would be best appreciated on a date. I would like to meet with someone who is a total douche bag in my opinion and get him to take me to diner. I will then proceed to act exactly like a toddler. This means crying when we wait for the table and repeatedly messing with the potted plants. I will put mouth and on the front door windows and proceed to smear my saliva all over it. If we even make it to the table I will turn around and stare at the people behind me. I will say “no” to everything and keep dropping my crayons on the floor. That will give me an excuse to go under the table no less than 50 times. When my dinner arrives I will eat with my hands, throwing my silverware on the floor with my crayons. No doubt I will make a huge mess of my clothing and attempt to get some noodles in my hair. If he offers me a napkin that is my cue to throw myself into a screaming fit, rubbing tomato sauce into my eyes because I am sleepy. I know this guy will never talk to me again…awesome.
4. I am almost willing to cut of my left hand and replace it with a hook. Nothing seems to bother people more than a prosthetic device except SCARY pirate prosthesis. I would use this hook for absolutely everything. I would pierce my money with my hook so cashiers have to take money from it. I would be sure to touch people with it in order to get their attention. I would wave with it to strangers. I think my favorite would be to ask for samples at the deli, extending my hook so they have to put meat on it. Then I would eat from it. I know for me personally, I would be terrified. I only wish I knew someone with a waterbed.
5. I want to join a street gang for like a few weeks. I want to know how to be straight gangsta and live a thug life. I want to do this only after extensive research of; New Jack City, Boyz N the Hood, and Dangerous Minds. I want to call everybody “sucka” . After I survive a drive by shooting, I want to escape the awesomeness of street life, selling drugs, and crime. I suppose I will discover I am actually smart after my inner city teacher enlightens me. Probably by getting me to read, using unconventional teaching methods (that put her job and life in jeopardy and possibly Coolio making a song about it).
Well, that sums up some of my aspirations. Actually, if I die before I do this stuff it’s like, not a huge deal.