Shogun's Syndrome

I recently came to the conclusion that I "suffer" from a specific set of symptoms that can be collectively classified as a distinct complex, Shogun's Syndrome. The following are characteristics of myself and others with said syndrome.

An irrepressible desire for power.

Always ahead or in control of everyone, “You only think that because I wanted you to think that.” or, “It is raining because I want it to rain.”

Secretive. I probably should not even be talking about it.

Honor dictates that I keep my cool; maintain the void. But if needed, I could disable you and your cronies quicker than a hummingbird, on steroids, could flap its wings. A single flap!

I see weapon-like properties in everything. A blade of grass or even a breakfast bagel, for example. I could also disable you with my bare hands. With my eyes closed. And blindfolded. Upside down. FROM ONE HUNDRED METERS! (I also stick strickly to the metric system, doing my part to bring about universal harmony. And lately I have been pushing Kelvins, too.)

When I jump in a river I do not get wet. The river gets Shogun-ed.

I live, happily, outside the natural laws of physics.

I am destruction, rage, honor, glory and fury incarnate. …oh, and friendship.

The Burger of Ages

Today my life peaked while enjoying Carl's Jr.'s new Kentucky Bourbon Burger.  The fried onion straws, the bacon, the pepperjack cheese, and bourbon sauce came together in one manly synthesis of unearthly flavor and spice.  My only coherent thought throughout was in desperate attempt to ration the burger as to prolong its kind embrace.  In those few short moments of unparalleled, indulgent ecstasy my outer best self groped helplessly against the ravenous hunger within.   The flesh was weak.  And I am left wanting.