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Being trapped in an elevator with my mother – The conversation would alternate between rambling trips down memory lane and vague accusations for never visiting and because I’ve forgotten her birthday for six or seven straight years.

Being eaten by black people – When I was five years old I saw the movie The Road to Zanzibar with Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, and in it, they’re nearly eaten by cannibals. Ever since that day I’ve always feared being eaten by black people.

Having to explain my Internet search history – They say a Google search is a window into your soul, and I hope that’s bullshit. When you’ve looked at as much porn as I have, mainstream interests lose their appeal. If it doesn’t involve a ball gag, midgets, hookers and livestock, it just seems PG.

There’s a new national anthem – Kelis’ song Milkshake replaces the Star Spangled Banner as our country’s national anthem, and I have to listen to it being performed before every major sporting event.

There is actually a hell and I get the punishment I deserve – I already know exactly what it would be. I’ll be strapped to a chair like Alex in A Clockwork Orange while Bea Arthur does a strip-tease and Abe Vigoda gives me an erotic massage —with full release.

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