Bucket List

Let me start off by saying that bucket lists are stupid. You should try to do things you want to do all throughout your life, not just when you’re near the end of it. Also, I am no where near cute enough, young enough, or terminal enough (since I’m not dying at all) to get any of these things done for me by Make-A-Wish or a celebrity. This means I’ll have to do it myself, and that’s a lot of work. So if I’m ever cuter, younger, or dying, and also lived in a world where the laws of physics no longer held meaning, this would be my list.

One: Punch Putin in the face and act like it didn’t hurt, even though his face looks really hard (I will also exchange this for giving Kim Jong-un a wedgie… I feel like this would be the easier of the two).

Two: Visit Atlantis or the North Pole or any other place everyone else said was fictitious that I secretly wanted to be real.

Three: Have Tina Fey adopt me. I must also meet Amy Poehler in this situation. Ideally she would co-adopt me and I would have the funniest moms ever.

Four: Never meet Oprah.

Five: Adopt every cat and dog in the whole world that needed a home. Every. One.

Six: Drive out into a national park and live there for a month just to see if I could hack it (I already know the answer to this, but I’m already hypothetically dying so this is why it’s on the list).

Seven: Ride a hawk (or a dinosaur or a unicorn, but the hawk’s probably better because I’ve actually seen one of those before).

Eight: Have Colin Farrell narrate my life. Most people would rather sign Morgan Freeman up for this task, but I prefer Colin Farrell. If my first choice gets too busy, I don’t know… being Irish or something, then Morgan Freeman can substitute.

Nine: Light a fire with my mind.