Hey all. If it wasn’t brought to your attention, I have been on a blogging hiatus because I’m studying for my LSAT on December 6th. I guess God was smiting me because I contracted Swine Flu. My friends say it’s because I’m a pig. I say it’s because I had sex with your mother. BOOSH! Some say this is karma. Me? Well, I totally agree. Even though dystonia-girl was just looking for attention and is a big fat faker[edit:Not a faker, her symptoms were mostly mental] who turned out to have a speedy recovery. Well lah-dee-dah, your highness. Do cheerleaders just get everything? Grrr.

Well, as we all know swine flu is very serious and I’ve put a lot of thought into it. So here is my last will and testament:

I never was a rich man, basically because I have a slew of terrible habits. What little money I do have though, will go to who ever tracks down Maddox (the self proclaimed famous blogger) and kick him right in his self-serving balls. This guy is funny, sure, but his act is kind of tired and his book sucked. Know what else? He didn’t respond to my email. And I’m not just some kid whining he didn’t meet Maddox. Nope. He called out Swine Flu on his blog, and I was going to sneeze in his face and spit in his ginger ale as he requested.

To Berstreet: I’ve shaved my head and bagged the hair. Now you have costume material for years to come. You’re welcome.

To Tom Coughlin: I leave you my 16 inch retractable knight-stick. After knowing you did not go home and beat your son-in-law or your own blood who married him, I’m sending this for every Giants fan. Either you start laying down the law or I’ll fucking haunt the Meadowlands. Don’t mess with me. I’ll have NOTHING better to do. Hell, you can even use this to hit your wife. I don’t care. Just get mean again. Or I’ll have Deacon from King of Queens check your prostate with the GD thing.

To My Parents: Since I’ve prearranged my passing, I’ve deleted all the pornography from my lap top so you can strip it dry of all my writing and give it to a publisher. I’m sure they’ll either make advances on sociopath studies or at least a decent dick-joke sitcom.

To my Dog Rudy (pictured below):

Don't Laugh. He has a disorder.

Rudy, you’ve been a loyal companion for the 3 short years you’ve been alive with me. I know I’m checking out early and that’s usually the dog’s job but for your remaining years, I leave you…my femur. I decided I’m not going to be an organ donor because of the sole fact that I hate those purple bumper stickers with the pun about “Heaven knows we need them here!,” but I decided I can go to heaven missing a leg so a cute puppy can play for years with the strongest bone in the human body. Well, the 2nd strongest bone in MY body but I need the other one for Marilyn Monroe.

*high fives my attorney named Chaz*

To Brian Westbrook: You ruined my chance at playoffs in fantasy football this year for my money league and I think that’s why my body started shutting down. The fact I had Reggie Bush for 4 weeks and he didn’t crack 7 points and then he pops off for 21 while your career could be over just infuriated me. Just like when I dropped Rashard Mendenhall after the week he was benched and I did it thinking no one could grab him before the game. Well, my opponent did and he had 36 points against me. Ugh. Enough about my fantasy miscues, I feel like Ruxin with Gates from The League. Well, Brian. I leave you my frontal lobe. I’m sure you forgot math by now with all your concussions. Actually, scratch the organ donor idea. You can take all of my body parts when you need them if you just promise to drink some fucking milk once in a while and stop being made out of crackers and loose-leaf paper.

To Gally: I had to put a lot of thought into this one. I left you my toilet paper. Basically because you’re an asshole. ZING!

To LeBron James: I left you my tooth paste for you, because it’s very obvious you put your stupid foot in your stupid millionaire mouth when you said you’d be great at football. It was the next game that you sat out an entire half for banging your wrist on the rim while dunking. Now, I’m just a fan and an amateur blogger but I’m about your age so I can talk down to you…DON’T YOU THINK FOOTBALL IS A LITTLE ROUGHER THAN BASKETBALL? Douche.

To Ashton Kutcher: You get nothing. I’m just letting you know me and Patrick Swayze are going to run a fucking TRAIN on Demi Moore. That bitch must suck the blood of the innocent because she gets hotter as time goes on. Real talk.

To Levi Johnston: I’m leaving you my old bike helmet. Why? Because I’m going to be dropping a lot of pianos on your head. You suck something fierce my friend. You aren’t even funny or attractive yet you get Playgirl spreads? You’re the new K-Fed. Congrats. Taco Bell is awaiting your arrival. Scumbag.

To Business Socks from Style Points: I’m going to leave you my autographed Mickey Mantle rookie card that he signed for me as a kid. I’m also going to send you an autographed picture of myself. You might not know it, but you were the first sports blogger to pay attention to me :)

To Big Troph: I’m going to leave my sense of humor. God knows you guys need one over there.

To Gimp, I’m going to leave you my set of balls because you haven’t done anything man-worthy in a long time. I’m also leaving your name on Megan’s Law.com for all those 9 year olds doing mediocre things posts.

To Tila Tequila, I left you a muzzle and a dildo. If you don’t put on the muzzle just go fuck yourself. Man, last time I used that joke I had to give my dinosaur a bath. Man, could I be on any more fire?!?

It isn’t commonly known to a lot of people that I have OCD. Like Howard Hughes, I saved all my urine. I also didn’t do many drugs. So I am leaving all my pee bottles to the following: Tim Lincecum, Shawne Merriman, Michael Phelps, Dwayne Bowe, Sean Sherk, Alex Rodriguez, Manny Ramirez, Lattimer from The Program, my uncle Ray, former President Bush and fetish porn directors.

And lastly, my girlfriend. I’ve decided that you’re coming with me. Can’t have you cheating on me when I’m in hell heaven. So I’ve left you cyanide in the tea the lawyer just offered you. You’ll be dead before you can cry. See you soon honey!

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