Running in Slo-Mo with No Shirt On

Location: Bloomingdales, Men's sunglasses department
Time: 2:05pm
Accomplices: Matt & Davey
Situation: David Hasselhoff, who looks really gay since he's been dying his hair a light brown, walked by me and bumped my shoulder as he passed. Never apologized. Big mistake, Hasselhoff. Big. Mistake.

I don't know what I'm gonna do. Here you are, 6'5" of tanned, 53-year-old meat who is so masculine that your CD's have gone #1 fifteen times in Germany (Who the hell goes #1 in Germany?? Kernkraft?). And here's me...ah...pissed because you bumped into me.

I'd say my odds are pretty good, my friend. Prit-tay, prit-tay, prit-tay good. I mean, if you didn't have the most awesome first name ever, I would have just ended you on the spot. But you bought yourself some time with that. Well played, Knight Rider. You're smart.

Anyway, watch your back, lifeguard. That's right, I'm looking right at you, big daddy. Mark this: you'll rue the day you crossed me. Or at least, you'll feel slightly remorseful. I hope.

I'm always ready, I won't let you out of my siiiiight (I'llllllll be reaaaaady..... I'llllll be reaaaady)

Oh, and if you see Brande Roderick, can you tell her I say "hi"? Thank you David.