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Why I’m the Real Deadpool Even Though Ryan Reynolds Played Him
If life imitates art, there’s a reason I love Deadpool. The unstoppable merc with a mouth can’t die no matter how hard he tries. We have a lot in common!
Deadpool is raking it in at the theaters at nearly 600 million dollars and counting. There’s probably a reason I enjoy Deadpool so much. We’ve got a lot in common.
In the first Deadpool, Wade Wilson is diagnosed with cancer. He doesn’t know he’s sick until he sees a doctor. By the time he does, he’s royally screwed.
That was me in February and March. Completely and royally screwed. I was better than Wade Wilson. It didn’t hit my brain. Still, Stage IV with an extensive spread meant that the doctor’s expectation was I’d be dead in a couple of years or less.
Wait a minute! We have other things in common!
First of all, I’m a sexy beast! LOL!
Seriously, much like Wade Wilson, I’ve had that experience where someone tried to kill me and proved I’m hard to kill. That’s not to say it’s impossible. It’s just not easy. Of course, I’ve never been torn in half or blown into dozens of pieces the way old Deadpool has. If I ever return from either, I better buy lottery tickets for every drawing that day.
Bullets are a favorite of mine because they have missed so many times. Then, there’s the one that hit me. It was like something out of a movie.
In Deadpool 2, Cable uses his time device to go back through time and put something right where Deadpool gets shot. Rewind, the scene plays again, but this time, Deadpool is safe, albeit a little sore.
Yes, that happened to me. It wasn’t the fancy time-traveling scenario by one of my heroic compadres, but something deflecting a bullet. It happened in October of 97, and it hurt like hell. A bullet struck me near a pocket. I used to smoke, and I carried a zippo in that pocket.
Being stabbed sucked. That’s an unfortunate scenario I’ve lived through not once but twice. Seriously, I’d prefer to get shot again than stabbed.
