There's A Shark In My Stocking. Or At Least There Better Be.

For my newer friends that haven't been introduced to my obsession with sharks today's your lucky today. Friend? Becca's shark obsession. Shark obsession? Becca's friend. Run, friend, run! My point, lovers, is that sharks eat you. Anyone that tells you otherwise is hoping to inherit your car. Forget all the scientific mumbo jumbo. You are crunchy and taste good with ketchup. They are there to eat you and don't kid yourself otherwise. My theory is backed by the infamous attacks of 1916 and by every other shark attack since, but society is in denial. But don't take my word for it. Go swimming and bark like a seal. Good luck with that, but anyway......

There are moments in life where you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God loves you and wants you to be happy. Those moments are as follows:

• When he doesn't immediately smite you for drinking 3 margueritas and hopping the table
• epidurals - 'nuf said
• Steaks at the Outback, and most important............
  
• When you find out that JAWS has been made into a video game

Click here to go see the trailer for the game. My only problem with the theory behind the game is tha,t as JAWS, you are protecting your home from getting destroyed thus you eat people and destroy waterparks. Oh, PULEEEAAAZE! Your JAWS for pete's sake. You eat people strictly for giggles. Absolutely everyone knows that.

I'll get the game anyway. I just have to. I had sworn off of it when I thought that it was like the long forgotten Nintendo version where you have to hunt the shark. Nerve wracking (I'm a paranoid personality type and can't bear to be pursued even by pixelated fish) and required thought process (I mean, who really can tell north from south and I thought longitude was a type of mood), but if one is the shark and eating people that changes everything completely, doesn't it??