Make sure you pack your baby powder, because your palms are gonna need the ass-soothing sensation of talcum powder after you’ve slapped every bitch-ass obstacle that gets in your face, today. You’ll bring with you, the collective force of a pimp, a mother that doesn’t tolerate back-talk and a sumo wrestler, all within your hand as you slap the bone marrow out of everything…and everyone…if necessary. Your hands are indiscriminate. Everything can get it. Cats, dogs, chickens, supervisors, traffic cops, asteroids, fuck them all.
As a matter of fact, your hand is the whole world’s obstacle. It needs to avoid you, less you smack that bitch’s atmosphere smooth into space leaving it to look like a dusty blueberry. I believe in your hands.
You’re a god…lol. Those obstacles are ants. Those ants pray to you for mercy. But they’re obstacles first, ants second. They get no mercy. So you destroy them. They shouldn’t have been in the house in the first place. Ants belong outside, not inside with the human food. That’s your food. Don’t let obstacles crawl into your refrigerator and take your food. Slap the chiton off there squishy bodies and use it to build new armor. You’re not just a god, you’re a resourceful knight. And those ant obstacles, they’re dragons. Fuck dragons. You’re a knight god. What’s a dragon ant to a knight god? Whatever word you use to describe a piece of shit. Destroy it, and keep being sexy the whole time, you god knight magic palm wielding maniac!
Have a great fucking day. (Black Sabbath starts playing in the background.)