kill a man with your bare hands: step 2

Note: The following is an excerpt from Kill A Man With Your Bare Hands: An On-the-Go Guide To Achieving Nietzchian Supermanhood. Click here to find out more about this exciting self-help book!

Step 2: Wrestle an alligator.

(If we need to add “Step 2(A): . . . And win”, you’re not ready for this guide.)

Once you’ve thrust your pummeling hands into the toothy maw of reptilian death, nothing else in life seems that problematic. Troubles at home? Is your boss a prick? Are your kids not especially bright, attractive, or athletically talented? Hoisting the bludgeoned body of a man-eating alligator over your head, then casting it out of the wrestling pit, is the just the tonic you need to forget the feeble, fallible leeches who’ve attached themselves to you, their Local Superman, for sustenance.

Still not enough? Lucky for you, alligators have been taken off the endangered species list. Which means you can deep-fry and feast on your vanquished opponent.

Gator wrestling: fun for a boy . . .

. . . or a girl!

Quick hint: though ferociously powerful, alligators, being cold-blooded, lack mammalian stamina. They’re only good for 30-second bursts of violence, tops, so the key to wrestling (and beating) an alligator is surviving that first onslaught, then outlasting it with your superior stamina and intellect. This is exactly how the Russians beat back the Nazis and the U.S. Navy overwhelmed the Japanese in World War II.

If you’re not in an area rife with alligators, other acceptable wrestling opponents would be:

1. A brown and/or grizzly bear.
2. A cougar.
3. A giant squid.
4. Andre the Giant.

Step 2(B): Failing that, push another spectator into the gator pit.

Check back soon for Step 3: Hang On For Dear Life!


7 thoughts on “kill a man with your bare hands: step 2”

  1. The Evil needs to include an Amazon link where we can at least pre-order this fantastic resource. Makes me all tingly inside just thinking back to the time I killed a man with my bare tongue. Possibly bad timing on my part, but what could I do? He and about two hundred of his parishioners/family members crashed my wedding, stomping all around outside chanting “Thank God for AIDS” like he likes to do. Normally this would have really pissed me off, but then I saw him standing there. Some say he knew Jesus personally, but from where I was standing he didn’t look a day past 873. Kept flashing me these angry come-hither dares, playing hard to get with his little “Fags Burn in Hell” sign. Probably the first hard-on he’s had since the Renaissance, honestly. How could I resist? I leapt the barrier, wrapped my arms around him, and gave him the fiery kiss he’s been dreaming of, slipped some tongue for good measure. You should have seen the look in his eyes, too! Talk about flared nostrils! I let him come up for air and of course he gasps. Who wouldn’t? Grabs at his chest because his heart is just overwhelmed with the passion he’s been depriving himself of for so very long.

    I would have held him forever, but by this time his cousin-grandchildren start pummeling me with everything they’ve got, so I had no choice but to drop him. He collapsed to the pavement. Just like a Burroughs novel, the most profound orgasm he’d ever had comes over him and all the goodness in him is released right there at my feet.

    I do know there are several people who disagree with me, but to this day I maintain that three months in traction was a small price to pay for helping arrange for him to meet Mr. God face-to-face at long last. I know they had a lot to talk about.

  2. sadly, amazon does not qualify for the “supersite” status–it tried, it failed . . . stepped in the ring with an 8-foot gator, screamed like a little girl and hotfooted it back to the safety of northern california. since it totally wussed out, it now refuses to acknowledge this priceless guidebook.

  3. This is what really pisses me off the most — nobody has any balls nowadays. They’re probably afraid somebody with a serious hair across their ass like me would buy this book and get ideas of going out in a blaze of glory. They don’t know the half of it.

    You know, I expected the crap I got from the right on this random act of kindness I bestowed. I even enjoyed it — nearly laughed myself into a coma when Sean Hannity called me a domestic terrorist and demanded I be charged with rape and “assault with a deadly weapon”. What, if the sonofabitch had bitten my tongue off? His own fear is what killed him. If he’d relaxed and taken it like a man he probably would have asked for my phone number afterwards, because I’m a pretty good kisser. And then Pat Robertson issued his fatwa against me … All that stuff was icing on the cake. What really made me want to go on a chopping spree was all these cowards like GLAAD and the HRC coming down on me for it. They’re all really quick to whine about this guy’s antics, but who before me had the balls to launch a counter-attack? I didn’t mean for the guy to drop dead, but I’ll be damned before I pretend I feel bad about it, and none of the eunuch pussies do either.

    So screw Amazon, IMDB, GLAAD and all the rest. The Supermen will prevail. It would be a lot easier if there were more of us, but the future really is ours, regardless.

  4. I’m sorry I have to do this, Vic. You know I love you, but people are asking questions, and things are spinning out of hand.

    Vic had a run-in with toxoplasmosis earlier this year and it nearly killed him. He got better, but he hasn’t been the same since. He dreams things and thinks they’re real. He is not a famous documentary filmmaker. He has never been on The Daily Show or Real Time with Bill Maher. He never lived with Patti Smith and/or Robert Mapplethorpe. And he sure as hell never French-kissed Fred Phelps to death.

    He just wishes he did.

    I’ve been playing along and humoring him, because he seems happy in his delusions and it seems harmless enough, but now he’s posting these crazy stories about himself on the web, and people are getting caught up in his psychosis, and it really has to stop.

    Writing his blog and posting his thoughts on things is a good thing. I’m afraid if he doesn’t exercise his mind he’ll slip away completely. But, the wild knight-errant adventure stories never happened and need to stop.

  5. Pingback: Man Vs Alligator

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