Who I Am And Why You Should Care

Good afternoon you motherless brain dead fuckwits, and welcome to another edition of Loki Cares, the blog where you go for your daily affirmation of your own worthlessness to humanity and of your unending, record shattering stupidity the extent of which can only be described as inspirational. I have decided to take a short break from pounding the fact that you'll amount to just about fuck all into your allegedly functioning brain and instead talk about myself for a while. As you are no doubt wondering as the latest drool trail dribbles down your chin why I've seen fit to do this, I will answer in the simplest manner your Lilliputian mind will comprehend: I'm an ego driven narcissist bent only on extending my already enormous mental penis to lengths which would make Lance Armstrong give up a quarter of the way into riding the trail that it extends along the side of. If you see any grammatical errors in that last sentence, fuck you and fuck your extended and immediate family you inbred mongrel of a cum stain on the coffee table of your lineage that is your mother's ass. I don't have to make sense, I'm perfect.

It all started when I was born on a bright August morning to the sound of birds heralding my delivery into this cultural sinkhole of a world bursting at the seams with socially inept fucktards and their mentally challenged offspring, littering the planet with each passing generation with progressively worse children. Upon my arrival into the nursery, I noticed that I was absolutely surrounded by drooling and constantly defecating morons who didn't even have the wherewithal to give me a light. I got up and walked out, having decided to never interact with such unpleasantness again, not knowing at the time that for the rest of my life I would never quite escape that nursery, you bunch of barely functioning and seldom coherent piles of monkey dicks.

By the time I was five, I had mastered seventeen languages (two of them not of this Earth) and nineteen forms of martial arts including the deadly art of Kung-Pung-Fuck-You while my so-called peers continued to shit their pants as if it were a hobby. By the time I was nine, I had beaten several professional fighters to a pulp in back-alley cage fights held by unscrupulous Singaporeans and lost my virginity to fourteen Swedish super models at once, so...yay me! My best friend at the time was the only being that I could at all relate to, an extraterrestrial entity composed entirely of knowledge and energy whom I called Ted. Oh the fun we had debating the finer points of quantum mechanics as pertaining to solar gravity fields! Then it turned out Ted was a pedophile and I had to launch him into the Phantom Zone via a single well-placed punch. Y'know, kind of like Superman only cooler, because this was me doing it.

Since the age of ten, my family and I have always celebrated my birthday with a 100 – 1 odds game of three way speed chess between Gary Kasparov, Deep Blue and myself. If you don't know what I'm talking about, please do the world a favor and choke yourself with razor wire until that useless protrusion you call a head pops off of your disgusting, bulbous body. We always had fun, but neither Gary nor Blue take defeat very well and it always ended in a knife fight. Which reminds me; sorry about those stitches back in '01, Gary! We don't get together all that much any more but that's alright, I was never that fond of such meager intellectual masturbation as chess. I much prefer waging intergalactic wars in the far-off reaches of space with the influence of my mind upon extraterrestrial men of power alone.

It's been kind of uneventful since I turned twenty aside from the standard free-for-all female volleyball team fuck fest and the occasional globe circumnavigation. I've been busying myself with a few pet projects, such as sustaining a remote Amazonian tribe through unseen influence. They were discovered by NatGeo in '08, the curious bastards ( http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2008/05/080530-uncontacted-tribes-photo.html ) and now its only a matter of time before they engineer war and Playstation and all my effort will have been for naught. If you're wondering, I make money by having foreign relations ministers from all around the world send me parcels of good will containing solid bricks of gold which I melt down and make into jaunty hats, and diamonds which I fence and live off the income.

I have climbed the highest mountain, swam the deepest depths, groped the biggest boobie. All these things have I done and more and yet...I suffer. For you see, despite my many learned proficiencies and inherent abilities, I am stuck to this world like flies to an Ethiopian, as it is home after all. I had a small window of opportunity at one time to leave this wretched hive of mental deficiency and insufficient aesthetic quality via alien mothership, but decided that instead of leaving this planet and its “civilization” to rot I would be better served in teaching it to be more like myself and perfect a utopia in which I would rule with a benevolent fist. So I started this blog. The end.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it, you incredibly unnecessary combination of evolutionary mistakes and regretful nights in the back of a '72 Dodge. Through this blog I hope to make the world a better, happier place inhabited by humans of adequate intellect and acceptable body fat percentage. I know this effort may be all in vain, as man is a species that is both frightened and threatened by any change to their daily routine of sleep-cheese-sleep, but I am benevolent enough of a being that I'm willing to sacrifice my precious time and resources if it means having just one of you sewage treatment plants born to fuck with my life raise their IQ by two or more points.

Check back tomorrow, when I tell you how you're going to die! Ooh what fun we shall have!