Chris Farley has had his life given back to him. In about 3 minutes he will die again, trapped in his airless, converted phone-booth coffin.
I wish I had been wearing a wet-suit for my entire life which had hundreds of tiny pockets sewn into it by professional fitness experts, each of these pockets would be filled with small weights so that every little movement I maked would offer up twice as much resistance to me as it would to a normal non wet-suited gentleman. The areas of the wet-suit that do not have a pocket sewn in have been cut out giving a large mesh effect so air and sunlight can get to my body. The fabric around my ass and genitals have been tailored so I can easily use the bathroom.
The only times in my life I have taken the wet-suit off was when I had grown a bit and was being fitted with a larger sized suit.
I am 27 and am currently at the top of my game as the worlds most excellent deca-athlete, I hold the world record for all 10 events in the decathlon.
In the 2004 Greece Olympics I am to take off my wet-suit and reap the rewards of my ‘strength of two really, really fit men’ body.
My deepest sympathy on your being far below average in a certain aspect (c’mon, you knew that was coming. Anyhew…).
<sound of ultrasonic TV remote control>
“And the winner is: Scuba_Ben!”
Personally, I think being on reality TV is corruption enough. Your celebrity status leads you to being cast with Chris Farley in the sequel A Clockwork Orange 2 - Getting Juiced. This time the aversion therapy involves a 10-megawatt cattle prod and Cinderella’s slipper. (Doesn’t make sense to me, either, but for some reason Kubrick isn’t taking my phone calls.) To add insult to injury, you glance across the soundstage to where they’re reshooting the scene involving a pair of sissors and a redhead, and realize that the star of that scene is - well, modesty keeps me from saying moi, but it is. Love them redheads.
I wish pervert wouldn’t get so excited by the word come.
Poof! You’ve won “Average Joe: The Big Secret,” and are preparing to spend the rest of your life with your beautiful sweetheart. As you lean in to kiss your beautiful maiden, she unzips her beautiful outer suit, revealing to you that she is, in fact, a small beluga whale.
You spend many happy months together before she tires of your “I coulda been on Joe Millionaire!” speeches, packs her suitcase, and goes to live with the rest of her pod.
–
For smam:
As you take the podium to receive your 10 medals, you ceremoniously unzip your wetsuit and reveal to the world a never-before-seen strain of Lethal Wetsuit Virus. Having incubated under a protective layer of rubber for 27 years, it has not only evolved into something terrible but also malevolent and evil. It quickly strips the flesh from your bones, and then makes its way to the rest of the crowd.
Eventually the virus dies after eating an old stadium wienerschnitzel left behind from a football match three weeks prior. News reports praise the shoddy janitorial services for containing the outbreak, which kills 1,284 people.
I get to star in a movie with moi? Cool! That makes up for both Chris Farley and the beluga!
Ah, there’s a wish still unfulfilled. pervert is no longer excited by the word come – e instead gets excited by every English word of more than one syllable. Things get messy real fast.
I wish for an autographed 8x10 photo of Chastain86.
Unfortunately <splurge><splurge><splurge><splurge> Scuba<splurge>_Ben the photo you get is covered<splurge> in pervert<splurge> excitement<splurge><splurge>. It’s too sticky<splurge> too touch.
OK, you didn’t start it. You finished it <me?> . You didn’t think I could do all that alone did you?
Happy? I am!
I wish for an endless supply of tissue paper!
OK, if you think that is continuing a bad topic, how bout this
I wish that everyone gets their favorite thing for Xmas.
Chastain86 everyone working in Wal-Mart is good looking and intelligent, unfortunately they have gone so up market, that they won’t let riff-raff like you or me into their stores anymore.
I wish I wouldn’t muddle up ‘to’ and ‘too’ in my writing.
Bippy, fear no more the confusion of “to” and “too” in your posts. From now on, what you will write will be “two”. For all three of the homonyms.
Oh, and Scuba_Ben’s unfulfilled wish for an autographed 8x10 photo of Chastain86 is granted! Too bad the photo is of Chastain86’s rump, and it’s been signed with… well, maybe you should ask pervert if he has any tissue paper left.
I wish I could get another article published in the magazine I sold the last (and my first) one to.
The “Catnip Abuser’s Weekly” not only wants a new article from you, they are demanding one. Your last article was about mixing Catnip and Arabic Gum then spreading the mixture on your cats’ tails. It has caused such an uproar in the Feline Drug Using comunity that you are required two explain how two unstick all the cats that tried this and as a result swallowed their own tails.
I wish two conquer the world with my specially trained squirrel army.
Having spent years training the unique and unusually intelligent species of squirrels behind his house, Bippy the Beardless was just as unprepared as the defence department for the rapidity of the take over. Within 3 months the defense systems of most of the world were in ruins. Of course many people were so overcome by the cute littel mamals that they could not resist. Many others were so fed up with the status quo that they welcomed even this drastic change. Most fought bravely. But no matter what they did, they could not keep the little buggers out. No place was safe. The iron cups with 12 dial combination locks were developed too late and in too few numbers to do much good.
It was also too short a time for Bippy the Beardless to realize that the squirrels were the real masters in this relationship. They in fact turned out to be a diminuative alien race bent on galactic conquest. They were not really all that interested in Earth. In fact, if we had not been the site for a crash 50 years ago of some important refugees…
Meanwhile all of humanity is enslaved and forced to harvest tree nuts for our new overlords. Eventually, a small station of the squirrel entertainment industry puts together a show depicing the cleverness of these cute simian earthlings.
You remember to finish wish posts and hit preview before submit, but it doesn’t do you much good, as you meet the dire fate ETF has just inflicted upon you in “Predict the Death of the Previous Poster” before you can write any more posts to the SDMB.
You have a dirigible! Unfortunately, it is stuck in the most uncomfortable position you can imagine. Well, that’s not true, its stuck in the most uncomfortable position I can imagine.
You try to reach it. You try to unsitck it, but it is just no use. Touching it becomes imposible without developing grotesque genetic mutations. You are forced to enjoy its existence without ever being able to use it.
100 hundred feet in the air, what did you think I meant.
pervert will you never learn. you forgot to put in another wish again. Damn you.
Then I’ll make one up for you and then put mine.
I wish pervert is still excited by every English word of more than one syllable and still has lots of tissue paper. But has an obstruction in the piping.
I am!