No matter what my problem is, it's the fault of someone other than myself, and the appropriate response is to find that person and kill him with my bare hands.
If I rudely argue with my boss in front of my co-workers, not only won't he fire me, but he will gain a profound respect for me.
There are two kinds of women in the world: The type that want to go to bed with you, and the type that want to kill you. Both types are physically attractive and under 25 years old.
If I have a prolongued fist-fight with another guy and neither of us dies, we will become best friends.
My arch-enemy will bear un uncanny resemblance in age and bearing to my father, and he will make it clear that he has gained a deep respect for me before I kill him with my bare hands.
When I shoot people, they will die quickly and cleanly, and I will never be arrested or troubled by their widowed wife and children. When people shoot me, however, I will at most receive a flesh wound, which will be tended to by a beautiful woman.
If an aged scientist is involved in any way, he will have a beautiful daughter who will gaze at me adoringly.
If I have a kid partner, he will be tightly-muscled, clean-cut, and gaze at me adoringly.
If I'm asked to compete against a world champion at any sport or game of any type, I will win. This will infuriate my opponent, who will then try to kill me.
If I am given a surprise attack, I will be attacked by only one or maybe two people at a time, and I will find that I am well-skilled in Karate and Ju-jitsu, and if all else fails, I will always have one last firearm hidden somewhere on my body.
Beautiful women will frequently furrow their brows with concern and ask, "When's the last time you got any sleep?" They will never ask when I last bathed or used the toilet, although I apparently never do those things either.
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