While strolling through the hardware store to pick up a new toilet seat because mine cracked under my big fat ass (they don't make em like they used to, and what a great way to spend my money), I saw a sign that sent a jolt of electricity to my nether regions: Chainsaws. I get a testosterone boost just saying the word. If you ask for a testosterone boost at Jamba Juice, they mix your smoothie with a chainsaw.
I've never wanted a chainsaw before. Never really thought about it. I guess I never had the need for one, but I'm beginning to rethink that. Think of the possibilities! I could use it to swat flies, butter my toast, change the channel, open letters, sign my checks, ward off bullies, cut my hair, and especially to cheer when the Cowboys score a touchdown or make a big hit. It would be my very own touchdown or sack dance. Not even T.O. has done that.
Please write this down as a gift idea. My birthday isn't until April, but most people owe me for this year anyway. It also makes a great stocking stuffer. And for the purchaser of my chainsaw comes a lifetime guarantee of not getting maimed by my chainsaw.
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