Originally written: March 11th ‘07
...without Jesus my most awesome of blogs would not have been possible. Unfortunately, not everyone seems to enjoy my site as much as I do; just the other day, during a moment of inspired boredom, I tried to access my site in school to make a few changes. To my horror, I quickly discovered that my site has been banned on the network, and instead of seeing the random rubbish I've written, I was confronted with an error message: "Banned site found".
Why on earth is my site banned? I've never said anything rude or offensive. Well, unless you happen to be French, but then you don't count. Oh, and I’ve insulted the Paraguayinians...and the Scots. And Rolf Harris. Okay, my site may have insulted a few people but still, I'm outraged. As a result, I plan to take over the world - once I am the grand, exulted leader I won't have this problem.
I also plan to make a few other changes once I rule everything. While I am leader, it will be illegal to party like it's any other time than 1999. Crappy French artists will also be banned from painting things, except for the lines on roads. And even then they have to use a stencil - I don't want a bunch of Frenchies ruining my roads. On top of that, I'm also lifting my ban from PC world. Due to me not getting on very well with computers, I'm now not allowed within a 10-metre radius of most computer shops. If I go against this ban, chances are something expensive will blow up, but when I rule the world I shall do it anyway. So there.
Man, it must be awesome to rule the world. It would mean you could do anything. Heck, if I succeed in my plan, I won't have to fake diplomatic immunity any more; before, I had to if I wanted to urinate on the Statue of Liberty, but now I no longer need to! Hurrah!
Oh, one thing though: When I rule the world, please refrain from sending me stupid letters, like little kids do to Santa or God. Man, you just know that those bloody mailmen have a right laugh, sitting around reading any kids' letters to God that actually get sent by parents. On top of that, you just know they go through birthday cards and keep the money they find. The bastards. Oh well, at least I can rest easy - every now and then they must get chunks of raw, sacrificial goat that someone has mailed to God. Me - 1, Mailmen - 0. I rock.
Anyway, I have big plans about what to do when I rule the world, but no real plan about how I should achieve this. I guess I could feed the world leaders viagra doughnuts. They wouldn't be able to stand up for hours.
...I'm sorry, that was just awful. From now on I vow to walk around with a bear trap, just in case any bad jokes like that happen to slip out. Y'know, as a distraction. Look, there's a bear trap on my leg, ignore everything I was just saying! Man, I'm a genius.