me inside
09-29-2006, 03:17 AM
This letter was written by some lame crazy guy I found on teh internet:
God,
I'm not sure if you realize this, God, but I think you might have made a mistake. On September 4th you took the life of television personality and humanitarian Steve Irwin, a man who has done nothing but good for the world and the people and animals that live in it. I know it's ludicrous to assume that you could make a mistake, but I think you meant to take Steve-O, that gangly douchebag from Jackass and Wildboys. God, I think you took the wrong Steve.
http://www.almostsmart.com/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=4476&stc=1&d=1159517445Steve Irwin: environmentalist and animal activist.
http://www.almostsmart.com/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=4475&stc=1&d=1159517445Steve-O: Douchebag, drug addict
See, I know that they are easily confused. They are both flamoyant celebrities with their own personal brand of humor. Both Steves were hosts of popular nature shows that centered mostly on fucking around with dangerous animals.
There were, however, several differences that you, being God and all, should have caught on to. Irwin was an older man from Australia with a wife and kids who cared about animals and their welfare. Steve-O is a single American in his late 20's who, when not indulging in near fatal amounts of nitrous oxide, can be found dressed as a zebra covered in blood beating up wild lions in Africa.
Both men probably enjoy their fair share of alcohol. Steve Irwin, however, is easily distinguished from Steve-O by the fact that he does not drink with his asshole and then shit beer all over his own shoes. That is an act that Irwin, whose soul you so carelessly took into thine arms, would never commit ... unless by doing it he would somehow help a needy croc.
On personal note, I once had an encounter with Steve-O at a Hollywood talent agency. I used to be a production assistant for America's Funniest Home Videos (or as it's now known: America's Least Watched Show), and I used to have to run errands to William Morris, which is a huge agency that represents many stars. One day while dicking around in the lobby of the agency's building, Steve-O strolled in reeking of beer. I watched as he approached the lady at the desk and asked to speak with his agent.
"And what is your name," she asked Steve-O. He laughed and looked around as if he couldn't believe what he had heard.
"Uhhh... Steve-O," he said with an arrogant intonation.
"Ok Steve and what's your last name?" she replied. This is where he really lost it.
"Uhh, it's 'O'. I'm fucking Steve-O lady. Wildboyz... Jackass.... You should know that!" he hissed at her, leaning over the edge of the counter. She ushered his pesky ass upstairs real quick, most likely in fear for the life of her hymen.
"I wish God would send a sea creature to murder that son of a bitch," I remember thinking to myself. "What a dick". Little was I to know that wish would come true, but backfire when God forgot to clarify his target a year later.
Compare that with my Steve Irwin experience:
It was July of 2003, or as I call it, the summer that the Croc Hunter saved my life. I was strung out and living on the streets, panhandling and robbing people to make ends meet. I was real scum back then, I didn't even wear boxers. Just those weird fucking titey whiteys, like little kids wear. It was creepy.
Anyways one day I was digging around in a trash can when I felt this enormous blunt force trauma to my side that sends me flying to the ground. I open my eyes and fuckin' Steve Irwin is on top of me!
"Hold on mate, gonna take you somewhea' safe now," he cried. His assistants hog tied me and placed me in an Australia Zoo truck. I had never been so confused in my entire life! Next thing you know, I wake up and I'm at a shelter getting spoon fed chicken soup by none other than the great Hunter himself.
Irwin gave me some money to start my life back up, got me in rehab, and completely changed path. Today I sit here with my own website, bicycle, and absolutely no desire to live in a bush ever again. Thanks Steve, I'll never forget!
God, is there any way you that you could undo this horrible mistake? I mean I'm sure the Croc Hunter's reanimated corpse lurking around stalking crocs would creep people out for a week or so, but for the death of Steve-O I think we would all be willing to give it a shot.
Thanks God,
Sean
The story about Steve Irwin and homeless me isn't true, I was never homeless and I never met the Hunter. The story about Steve-O throwing a fit and me being there to laugh, however, is all too true.
God,
I'm not sure if you realize this, God, but I think you might have made a mistake. On September 4th you took the life of television personality and humanitarian Steve Irwin, a man who has done nothing but good for the world and the people and animals that live in it. I know it's ludicrous to assume that you could make a mistake, but I think you meant to take Steve-O, that gangly douchebag from Jackass and Wildboys. God, I think you took the wrong Steve.
http://www.almostsmart.com/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=4476&stc=1&d=1159517445Steve Irwin: environmentalist and animal activist.
http://www.almostsmart.com/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=4475&stc=1&d=1159517445Steve-O: Douchebag, drug addict
See, I know that they are easily confused. They are both flamoyant celebrities with their own personal brand of humor. Both Steves were hosts of popular nature shows that centered mostly on fucking around with dangerous animals.
There were, however, several differences that you, being God and all, should have caught on to. Irwin was an older man from Australia with a wife and kids who cared about animals and their welfare. Steve-O is a single American in his late 20's who, when not indulging in near fatal amounts of nitrous oxide, can be found dressed as a zebra covered in blood beating up wild lions in Africa.
Both men probably enjoy their fair share of alcohol. Steve Irwin, however, is easily distinguished from Steve-O by the fact that he does not drink with his asshole and then shit beer all over his own shoes. That is an act that Irwin, whose soul you so carelessly took into thine arms, would never commit ... unless by doing it he would somehow help a needy croc.
On personal note, I once had an encounter with Steve-O at a Hollywood talent agency. I used to be a production assistant for America's Funniest Home Videos (or as it's now known: America's Least Watched Show), and I used to have to run errands to William Morris, which is a huge agency that represents many stars. One day while dicking around in the lobby of the agency's building, Steve-O strolled in reeking of beer. I watched as he approached the lady at the desk and asked to speak with his agent.
"And what is your name," she asked Steve-O. He laughed and looked around as if he couldn't believe what he had heard.
"Uhhh... Steve-O," he said with an arrogant intonation.
"Ok Steve and what's your last name?" she replied. This is where he really lost it.
"Uhh, it's 'O'. I'm fucking Steve-O lady. Wildboyz... Jackass.... You should know that!" he hissed at her, leaning over the edge of the counter. She ushered his pesky ass upstairs real quick, most likely in fear for the life of her hymen.
"I wish God would send a sea creature to murder that son of a bitch," I remember thinking to myself. "What a dick". Little was I to know that wish would come true, but backfire when God forgot to clarify his target a year later.
Compare that with my Steve Irwin experience:
It was July of 2003, or as I call it, the summer that the Croc Hunter saved my life. I was strung out and living on the streets, panhandling and robbing people to make ends meet. I was real scum back then, I didn't even wear boxers. Just those weird fucking titey whiteys, like little kids wear. It was creepy.
Anyways one day I was digging around in a trash can when I felt this enormous blunt force trauma to my side that sends me flying to the ground. I open my eyes and fuckin' Steve Irwin is on top of me!
"Hold on mate, gonna take you somewhea' safe now," he cried. His assistants hog tied me and placed me in an Australia Zoo truck. I had never been so confused in my entire life! Next thing you know, I wake up and I'm at a shelter getting spoon fed chicken soup by none other than the great Hunter himself.
Irwin gave me some money to start my life back up, got me in rehab, and completely changed path. Today I sit here with my own website, bicycle, and absolutely no desire to live in a bush ever again. Thanks Steve, I'll never forget!
God, is there any way you that you could undo this horrible mistake? I mean I'm sure the Croc Hunter's reanimated corpse lurking around stalking crocs would creep people out for a week or so, but for the death of Steve-O I think we would all be willing to give it a shot.
Thanks God,
Sean
The story about Steve Irwin and homeless me isn't true, I was never homeless and I never met the Hunter. The story about Steve-O throwing a fit and me being there to laugh, however, is all too true.