Hah! No, I didn't get a shoe, those bastards. And y'all don't wanna see a pix of the shoe I've got, it's just not fly enough. I could never compete with da balla!
Anyway, I managed to live, but it was a close call. As I was hanging from the shower head watching my life flash before my eyes, I realized that I hadn't seen enough pictures of Lindsey Kildow, the Minnesota native competing in the Winter Olympics. While she might not pay much attention to me now, once I win the Powerball I should be able to buy her love. Oh yeah! Plus some new skis so she doesn't wipe out again.
Shortly before the blood vessels in my neck would have popped and my eyes exploded, I managed a herculean feat of strength by ripping the cord from around my neck with my sixteen inch member. Heady with the promise of idle days spent in the erotic company of Lindsey, I rushed into the living room to measure my bodyfat.
"What?! No shoe! SHIT!" I wailed. "I will NEVER be as lean as eliteballa!"
My mind returned to the shower, but only for a moment. After all, even if Lindsey doesn't give me the time of day, there's always Jessica Alba.