I don’t know about you, but there’s a few things I’d like to do before I die.
I’d love to save someone’s life. I want to be interviewed on the news right after I risk my safety to keep an old woman from getting hit by a car, and someone will come up and call me a hero. And then I’ll get to look them in the eyes and say “I’m not a hero. I just did what anyone would do in my position.” And then the person interviewing me on TV would think I was brave AND humble, so she’d fawn over me and giggle a bit.
I also want to hit a kid who’s being a big jerk in public. You hear stories about old guys doing it and it sounds right up my alley.
I’d like to storm out of a dinner. Pretend to get offended about something that’s said, make this proud declaration about taking the moral high ground, and then walk out. After I eat but before the bill comes.
What else? Heroin. Oh man. I bet that feels pretty good.
Either that or achieving pure transcendence at some point.
Woo.
Will today’s post be Ian Smith’s Birthday?
Only when I earn my fame, as Michael Bolton has by being adored by old women everywhere.