The other weekend, drunk at a bar, my brother and I got to discussing the age-old, drunk-at-a-bar question: what’s the manliest thing possible? Is it arm-wrestling a grizzly bear whilst holding another grizzly bear in a headlock? Is it having sex with a waitress while eating a steak with one hand and shaving with the other? After much debate and several threats of face-punching, we finally decided that the manliest thing of all time would be a lumberjack, riding around on two great white sharks, holding a third great white shark above his head, ready to throw at anyone who displeases him. Also, all three sharks and the lumberjack are very angry.
This picture of manliness, we decided, really hits a number of satisfying areas. First off, there’s a lumberjack, which is clearly the most manly type of all men. A pirate, you say? Pirates have scurvy and steal things. A ninja, you say? Ninjas mostly just sneak around and assassinate foreign dignitaries when they’re not paying attention. A lumberjack, on the other hand, literally centers his entire existence around wrecking shit. And not just any old shit, he lives every single day wrecking trees, nature’s hugest creation (except for the Blue Whale, which a Lumberjack could also fell with an axe, if he wanted to). Plus lumberjacks wear flannel, clearly fashion’s most manly fabric. I could continue to argue this point, but I think it’s pretty clear that lumberjacks are awesome.
Second, the great white shark is clearly the most bad-ass of all animals (except for of course, as Jack Handy once pointed out, a great white shark riding around on the back of an elephant, trampling and eating everything in sight. But unfortunately that’s not a real animal (yet), so for now we’ll just have to stick with the great white shark). With rows and rows of razor sharp teeth and no compassion whatsoever, the great white shark is literally a giant, swimming killing machine, and the perfect thing to be thrown by a lumberjack at anyone or anything he deems necessary.
After gaining the support of every single male at the bar (all the females just blinked at looked at us like we were from outer space), my brother and I went home got to Photoshopping.
Inevitably, we were bound to be a bit disappointed. A vision of manliness this epic defies any attempt to capture it in a mere picture, even one rendered in a program as awesome as Photoshop. It’s the sort of thing than can never really measure up to your hopes and imagination, like trying to draw a picture of God. Also, my Photoshopping isn’t all that great. Still, it wasn’t bad, and at least gave us a place to start.
It was then that my other Mark brother came in, also drunk, and decided to be a huge asshole and question our creation.
“You guys are stupid,” Mark said. “Why would an animal as bad-ass as a great white shark subject itself to being a throw-toy? Great white sharks have enough wrecking to do on their own. They don’t need a lumberjack.”
“Everybody needs a lumberjack,” replied Alex. “The shark knows that he can wreak even more bad-assery if he can get thrown by a lumberjack first,” he added. “Also, YOU’RE stupid.”
“Mark, nobody’s debating the awesomeness of a great white shark,” I interjected. “We’re just saying this combination would be even more awesome, and that the shark would clearly recognize that. I mean, it’s bad enough to have the shit eaten out of you by a great white shark, but how much would it suck to get smashed in the face by a great white shark, thrown 90 miles an hour by a lumberjack, and THEN have the shark eat the shit out of you?”
“What is the lumberjack even going to throw at? Random swimmers?”
“What do you mean, what’s the lumberjack going to throw at? Whatever he wants, obviously. Jet skiiers that piss him off. Boats, which the shark would smash through the side of, sink, then eat everyone on board. Maybe buoys, if there’s nobody else around and he wants to work on his accuracy.”
“But of course, he wouldn’t need to work on his accuracy,” added Alex. “He’s a lumberjack.”
“I’m just saying, what’s keeping the shark from just swimming away, after the lumberjack throws him once? It would be better if the shark were on a giant chain, which the lumberjack would use to pull him back in after each throw. Also, he could use the chain to swing the shark around, like a giant morning star, to get extra speed before he throws it.”
“I hate you, Mark,” I said. “But damnit. You raise a good point.”
“I think you’re both missing the whole point of this,” Alex said. “Which is, that the lumberjack has mastered the shark. You see, the lumberjack was, in fact, raised by sharks, which is the only thing manlier than being raised by wolves. And while he with them, learning the ways of his shark brethren, he finally discovered how to control them.”
There was a long pause. Something inside of me opened up, like I had just found religion. And then Mark spoke.
“Wait, how does a baby lumberjack get raised by sharks? Babies can’t swim.”
“I’m going to punch your goddamn face off,” said Alex.
“Whatever,” said Mark, trudging off into the other room to pass out. “I just think if this lumberjack were truly manly, he wouldn’t need two hands to throw a shark.”
Alex and I briefly considered charging after and hog-tieing Mark, but perhaps he was onto something. Maybe there was something missing from our design (aside from the shark breathing fire, or having rockets attached to him, or other things that would clearly take the idea way too far). And so, we sat down and drafted a list of things the lumberjack could be doing with his other hand (keeping balance in mind, of course – the lumberjack is already holding a several-hundred pound shark in one hand, after all):
THINGS THIS LUMBERJACK COULD BE DOING WITH HIS OTHER HAND:
- Chopping down a redwood (too obvious)
- Curling a 200lb dumbbell
- Juggling midgets
- Finger-blasting a porn star
- Strangling Hitler
- Summoning a lightening storm
- Holding up the Earth
- Punching Jesus
Holding another great white shark occurred to us, of course… but come on. We didn’t want to get carried away.