Brain Wreck

In my native country I run all time. No time for job, wife, house, car, children, grocery shop at store. I eat what I find on side of road. Run 50, 100, 200 mile a day. Find some good stuff. Some bad stuff. Sometime give you the runs. Sometime give you the constipated.

If you get the constipated and highway workers find you going #2 by side of road, they will help your constipated by hitting you with large sticks. Knock bad stuff out. They will also do this if you have the runs but is no help for the runs.

I know nothing for recipes. No time for cook. Only time for train for Olympics. I am sort of raw foodarian. This help me win gold medal at Olympics when I have runs on course and everybody else have to watch and step around it. It is good strategy. Good day not to be the constipated.

When I win Olympic Gold Medal, I am stand on podium to get it hung around my neck while they play national anthem of my country. National anthem of my country, The Democratic Republic of Dumfungelland, I find out later is state secret of top priority. Nobody in my country write music, so for national anthem they made arrangement of “Hang on Sloopy” for twenty-two hand drummers and one 4-string gourd banjo player. Singer say, “Hang on Democratic Republic of Dumfungelland, Democratic Republic of Dumfungelland hang on.” Then singer yell, “Yeah!” And then all the citizens yell back, “Yeah!” Then they yell “Yeah” four times at each other, and 4-string gourd banjo player, who always plays through giant stack of Marshall amplifiers and uses all same effects as Jimi Hendrix, Distortion, Octaver, and Vox Crybaby Wah pedal, launches into crazy 4-string gourd banjo solo that usually lasts until ear bleed achieved for audience.

After they play National Anthem and everybody dabbing at their ear with Kleenex, something bad happen. Accidental brown and green cloud escape from my buttside. Smell not good. Olympic guy who supposed to hang medal around my neck, former Olympic gold medal shot-put champion, Lemley Dickenputz, just throw medal at me. Lemley knock me sideways off podium onto bronze medal guy who pass out from smell of me. Then wind shift. Silver medal guy on other side pass out, too. I put medal on own neck and salute flag of my country, The Democratic Republic of Dumfungelland, while bronze and silver guys dragged off podium by EMT guys with gas masks.

Supreme President for Life of my country, Hoochieman Dumfungel, go on national TV and tell 1,212 people who own TV in my country that I, Olympic Champion Runeatandpoo Assizburn, am national disgrace and laughingstock of whole world. Too bad for Hoochieman that Supreme General of the Democratic Republic of Dumfungelland armed forces, Napoleon Patton Oswald Dumfungel, own TV and don’t like Hoochieman speech or Hoochieman. General Dumfungel go on TV and tell all 1,212 TV owner that Hoochieman smell worse than Runeatandpoo and have no sense of humor. He also say that Hoochieman corrupt. Hoochieman need to be replace. Then Supreme General Dumfungel march to Presidential Palace with entire 874 man army and kick Hoochieman’ ass out gold front door of Presidential Palace. Then Supreme General Napoleon P.O. Dumfungel go on TV and proclaim me, Runeatandpoo Assizburn, as National Hero and new Supreme President for Life. Life is arbitrary term limit. Anyway, Hoochieman is now Presidential Palace official goat tender for life.

My first official act as Supreme President for Life of the Democratic Republic of Dumfungelland was to have new McDonalds Hamburger Chain Restaurant built next door to Presidential Palace. Big Macs remind me, SupremePresident for Life Runeatandpoo Assizburn, of long-time championship diet that got me to this wonderful hot damn place in my life. Highway workers don’t beat me with sticks no more. I have palace full of servants to do same job these days. Life is good. Long live McDonalds! Long live Big Macs! Long live Olympic Champion, National Hero, and Supreme President for Life of the Democratic Republic of Dumfungelland, Runeatandpoo Assizburn. That is me!