Here is what I would like you to understand: I did not lie. I’ve never told a lie in my life. One time, in response to a question of “Are you hungry, can I get you anything?” I tried to say “No, thank you” simply to be polite, but it was a lie, I was hungry, and halfway through the sentence I began vomiting blood and shitting myself. Deceit burns my tongue like acid. I am a truth teller. That is how you know that every word in my GoFundMe was true. Yes, there is a flight of stairs in my house I am constantly falling down. Yes, these falls endanger my life. Yes, converting the stairs to a slip-and-slide will cost precisely $12,452 USD. These are facts. These stairs will kill me, and the GoFundMe was the only possible way to save my life. My extremely attractive girlfriend will vouch for every word of this. You can ask her if you like. She lives in Queensland and isn’t around right now but she’ll be around later probably. Maybe. She’s a very busy woman (she’s a model by day and a scientist by night)

But because I decided to try and save my life from the satanic stairs of death, people hate me. They don’t want me to live. “Why don’t you simply avoid using the stairs” one genius asked. If only it were that easy. All my stuff is up there on the second floor, and moving it down would be a real pain in the butt.

So I asked for money. “Don’t ask for money,” they say. “If writing tweets for free bothers you so much why don’t you go and get a paid writing gig instead,” the critics scream. “Sir, it’s only one slice of bread that’s available as a free sample, I’m going to have to ask that you put back those six loaves,” the naysayers shriek. Of course. I shouldn’t be compensated at all for the rapturous enjoyment and pleasure I’ve provided for millions of people. Jerry Seinfeld worked for free right? WRONG. Jerry Seinfeld was PAID. It’s something people outside of the comedy industry don’t really know, but free-to-air television stations actually make money off the advertisements they air. Jerry Seinfeld was getting paid. Tim Allen was getting paid. Ricky Gervais was getting paid. And what, little old Brady isn’t supposed to wet his beak a little bit?

I used the money on a life saving stair operation. I did not throw a huge party where I hired an industrial fan and used it to blow a small hill of cocaine into my asshole while two strippers in full sized Sharper Image stormtrooper uniforms pried my butt-cheeks open. I was not shot with beanbag rounds by the police when I climbed onto my neighbour’s roof while hollering that I was the “Unkillable Ever Thrillable King Motherfucking Kong”. If you read the incident report, you would see that this isn’t the case at all. But it is easier to hurl hate than do a bit of research. That was the ultimate lesson of WWII, after all, but most people haven’t learned it.

I’m not a liar. But in a way, I am. We are all liars, are we not? A race of liars lying our way through our liar lives on this great big fucked up Liar’s World. This is the life we chose, the life we lead. And there is only one guarantee… none of us will see heaven. Unless it’s Liar’s Heaven, which is actually Hell.

And that is why I have decided to take the high road. I have done what only Jesus Christ and Gandhi ever managed to do. I have forgiven my enemies. Of course I’m still angry at them. Of course I regularly fantasize about carving up their awful bodies with the Longclaw replica sword (which I purchased independently and not with GoFundMe money) and mounting their ugly heads on spikes so that everyone can look at them and laugh at how pathetic they are and how easily I beat them. Of course I will spit on you if I ever meet you face to face. But it’s the spit of forgiveness. It’s spit from the mouth of the Man Who Never Lied. And when I die, many years from now, I will die thinking of you, and smiling. Why? Because I won and you lost, and the history books will reflect that. Fuck you. Fuck you and your whole family. Eat ten thousand shits.

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