I Hate To Reveal My Own Invincibility, But This Bear/Shark/Rattlesnake Attack Survivor Forced My Hand

Listen, you all know I hate to brag. Despise it. I love to tell stories, but I’ll only regale somebody with an impressive feat like, one time Steph Curry tried to use of one his fancy moves to get by me for an easy bucket and I didn’t allow that shit to happen, if and only if somebody else prompts me.

You see, when somebody says something like, “Hey, aren’t you the guy who *insert another incredible feat*?” it would be rude to deny them the details. The look on their face, the yearning for elaboration, it gets to me, and who am I to say no? I mean, without story telling, we wouldn’t know about us walking on the Moon. We wouldn’t know the limits of human potential.

So that’s why I’m here right now. CBS, ABC, NBC, FOX, CNN and the rest of the clown shows ran similar stories on this guy. Mr. Lucky survives a bear attack, a shark bite, and a rattlesnake bite. This man is unbreakable! The gold standard for survival.

I’ll say it again. I don’t like to talk about myself, especially when the topic at hand is complimentary. But I can’t let people think this is all us as a human race are capable of.

Well, friends, my hand has been forced.

I, Colby Gandalf Decimus Meridius Potter Alan Wohlleb, of Boca Raton, FL, have a lead a life of indestructibility, anonymously, for the last 28.5 years. This other guy? Nothing but a fraud.

In my second year of life, frustrated by parental restrictions, I wanted to show my Mom what kind of superhuman she was dealing with. I think she knew, she just wanted to preserve my innocence. Anyway, I climbed on top of the washing machine, reached into the poison closet for the 2 Liter of Hydrogen Peroxide, and downed that sumbitch like Stone Cold.

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My mom panicked and called 911. Mere mortals like my brother were enamored by the Firefighters while I tried to tell these guys I didn’t need my stomach pumped. They did it anyway. Two weeks later, I upped the ante and chugged a bottle of Amoxicillin. The boys in the big red truck were back, this time with a team of inspectors to make sure my parents were fit to be parents.

This past year, a man told me when he was little, while working on the family farm, he would get bit by a rattlesnake a couple times a year . He said his grandma would lie him down on couch without food or drink for 24 hours while his body passed the toxins. So obviously everybody has been overreacting (looking at you, Animal Planet) to snake venom this whole time. In case you forgot how a Peroxide bottle label reads, here you are:

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I drank half my body weight of the stuff at the age of 2 and look at me now, side effect free, and some would say Gosling-esque handsome (not my words) to boot.

Let’s move along a couple of months.

I’m in North Carolina on some distant family member’s farm when I met a DogBear.

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The dog tried to alpha me throughout the day by sneak-pushing me over, and since I was already in the 175th percentile for height for kids my age, my center of gravity was a little off so he was winning. Eventually, I grew tired of his antics, and ran out to an open field to settle the beef like a real man.

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The DogBear gave it the ol’ college try. That particular breed of dog tries to scalp their victims. I’ll spare you the details, but by the time I received my 30-something stitches, grabbed my blanky, and took this remarkably photogenic picture with my 6’3″ 235 lb University of Miami QB short short rockin absolute stud of a father, that dog was six feet under. Darwinism.

I took a couple years off from doing incredible shit, my cover wasn’t going to last if I continued to cheat death. For my 10th Christmas, I wanted to go swimming with dolphins. Peroxide incident and my brother’s elementary school haircut aside, my parents epitomized “good parents”, so they took me to swim with our mammal friends in Key West.

This is during the good ol’ days before the internet had Google and science didn’t exist, so this type of activity existed. Recent research proved Dolphin’s are the biggest assholes in the Animal Kingdom. They bully other animal species, and kill for sport. Sometimes a mother dolphin will give birth, put the baby in its mouth, take it to the surface, and smack it against the surface of the water until it’s dead.

Anyway, I jumped in the murky water and swam around for a couple minutes. The dolphins disappeared, so at this point I’m just kind of floating around wishing I asked for a trampoline when one of them bit my foot.

After the bite, I remember my unmatched wit and big brain reminded me of a technique I learned from reading Encyclopedia’s while my Dad and I bench pressed in the garage in very loose 1990’s style tank tops.

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The Dolphin was, understandably, very embarrassed as I rode him like a domestic mule to safety.

So there it is. I hated every second of typing that out, but breathtaking tales like I’ve just shared need to be told, if not for the good of Mankind, for the sake of dispelling Fake News.

Last thing, I fell off a cliff last year, rubbed a little dirt on it, and walked it off. Somebody relay that to our fraudulent friend and tell him he has one year to top that.

 

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