Recent allegations have surfaced that I am not tough. Ask anyone who really knows me though and you’ll hear the truth: I’m the hardest, meanest son of a gun ever to walk this earth.
I’ve always had a “don’t mess with me” attitude. In seventh grade I once fought a kid and beat him up so bad that he moved to another country where he can never be located or contacted or anything so don’t try to find him because you won’t be able to. No one saw it, but it happened. And I swear to God if he shows his face again I’ll send him to another solar system.
I’ve got grit. The kind of grit that makes you push through pain even when every last nerve in your body screams at you to stop. Ever heard of Navy SEAL training? Well I played Angry Birds on my iPhone for four straight days until I beat the game.
Just yesterday morning I woke up at 6:30 a.m., drove to the hardware store, bought a 12-pack of steel nails and snacked on them before breakfast. I eat nails before breakfast. Anyone can eat nails for breakfast, but for me it’s just the appetizer. I usually follow it up by brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth with orange juice just to make sure I get my daily dose of pain.
So you might ask, “Is Jeb Bush tough enough to become president of the United States?” Yes, I am. To this question, I respond with some questions of my own: If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? Is the dress white and gold? Does life exist somewhere else in the universe? I think you know the answer.
Believe me, I’m tough.
Image source: Gage Skidmore/Flickr