27 March 2006
No Mr. Bond, I expect you to die.
I want a houseboat. or at least a cabin cruiser. something i can sail around the world in, evading Somali pirates, and weathering squalls all while talking like a pirate and just generally being the coolest kid in the league. i mean, a houseboat would rock. i may not be able to sail the open ocean in it, but fuck, how pimp would that be? i mean what's a better come on than, "what hospital were you born in?" easy, "hey baby, wanna see my houseboat?" "yep, just like MacGyver." and i mean really, how fuckin cool is MacGyver? that's instant pimp status. fuckin feng shui the shit outta that house boat and the women would be lining up in droves. once they sat down in the houseboat and saw how awesome its awesomeness is, you'd need a fucking spatula to get them off the seat. plus, if you want to do anything illegal in your house, you just drive out into international waters. then w00t! all hands on deck! it's time for a sexy party! hoist the jolly roger, tell women to remove their tops or walk the plank. the plank being a little board that leads to the hot tub. plus the true advantage of a houseboat; should anyone try to deviously kill me with a bomb, then i could potentially survive if i dive into the water, well, assuming that i found the bomb or uncovered the plot in time. whatever, i'll have surveillance in my boat to alert me to the potential threats that may be perpetrated on me. so, when i get my houseboat, all of you are invited to the sexy parties. there will be beer provided, but you must provide your own liquor.