Earthlings! Bow to Shaq, Grand Uniter of Nations, Purveyor of Peace, Demigod of the Blocked Shot. For it is I, Shaquille of Newark, New Jersey, who has ended the centuries-old war between Tanzania and the United States and terminated the suffering of millions of African refugees.

It was all so easy! George Bush and a heavily armed guard traveled to the Emperor of Tanzania’s palace, where the Emperor lavished our president with gifts representative of his homeland: a Zebra pelt, stuffed beasts of the Savannah, and a traditional wood carving.

Rejected!

Heads up, John McCain: you’re gonna have to build a bigger security fence. Shaq is coming to your state, and he is much larger than the average Mexican.

I like that name. “Security Fence.” Not only will I be bringing vigilante justice to job-seeking migrant workers, but I will also be ruining the Italian-raised Kobe’s hopes for a better life for his family. I will be checking Yao’s passport at the paint. I will be aborting Dirk’s anchor baby.

Associated Press

Several weeks ago, when I got injured, the media was asking me, “Shaq, what will you do with all your free time?” America, “free time” is not in the New Abridged Dictionary of Shaq and Shaqisms, volume 4.

I am incredibly busy. Several days ago, I accidentally sat on the remote control, which turned off “Jimmy Neutron” and turned on the Democratic Debates. Shaq was furious and began to weep. But he saw it as a sign from the Lord. It is Shaq’s destiny to run for office.

Associated Press

Randy Moss, beating up ladies? He says it was an accident. America, when the glove don’t fit, it’s a bunch of bullshit.

Shaq doesn’t know Randy Moss, except that I always take him in the first round of my Madden fantasy drafts. What I do know is that women-folk are very sensitive. And when they start to cry, they like to use words like “aggravated assault and battery.”

When I was getting used to living in the massive tank of muscle and strength that we know today as Shaq, I ran into similar “accidents.” When Shaq was four years old, my playmate Chandra used to tug on my bushy little afro. One day, I playfully pushed her away. Shaq was young, naïve, foolish, 3’ 6”, 120 pounds. Girl flew 25 feet.

Associated Press

America, Christmas is supposed to be a magical time when the whole world (except Muslims, Jews, pagans, and Yao Ming) gathers to eat ham and watch basketball. So why are you going to the zoo and getting eaten by tigers?

I thought I was having a miserable Christmas. I got beaten by the evil LeBron James, and didn’t even get the all-time record for consecutive foul-outs. Then I came home to see my kids, but realized that they were with my ex-wife. My Chinese mistress, Lotus Blossom, suggested a massage. But after I got naked on my throne (except for the Santa hat), bitch said she forgot the cocoa butter.

Sometimes, Shaq wishes that he was the poor fool at the zoo on Christmas. In my hallucinations, I see the tiger, glorious and yellow, leaping over a fence to tear out my jugular. Shaq then immediately halts the tiger with a kung-fu chop to the neck. When the tiger awakens from its coma, me and the tiger become best friends.

Associated Press

What? Shaq has weak knees? Thanks for the diagnosis, Dr. Player Hater, but I believe you have incorrectly assumed that Shaq is a mortal carbon-based life-form bound to Earthly laws of physics.

26 points, what? 14 rebounds, 3 blocks, what? And that was all on Yao’s sorry ass. So to all the media, my fans, and presidents of the USA who are reading this post, let me lay it down for you exactly why Shaq has stepped up his game:

THE CHINESE ARE COMING.

America, the Chinese are a dangerous foe who, if given the chance, will kill you and eat your brains. But do not panic. Shaq Superman is on your side.

Even with the Miami Heat at 6 wins, 1 loss, and even with Shaq shattering records left and right, NBA dotcom and ESPN dotcom and Steven A-dot Smith won’t get off my back.

Now, I know that Joe Earthling is thinking: “Shaq, I respectfully question your algebra, because the Miami Heat are technically 1-5.” To that, I am thinking: “Shut up, bitch.”
Shaq’s Palatial Statisticians have just reported that if you factor in the injury to Dwayne Wade, the cheating refs, the racist commissioner and the surprising play of Udonis Haslem, we should be 6-1. And yes, I added a game to that tally because, dude, have you been watching Udonis Haslem?

Love has a way of coming back and biting you in the butt. Or, in Shaq’s case, of gently nibbling on my butt.

My divorce might not be over after all. Shaunie, my Queen, has said that our differences are not irreconcilable … hey, wait a second, I was the one who wanted to divorce in the first place!

America, I know that woman’s up to no good. First came the reports that she was sleeping with her muscular Cuban personal trainer. Every day, the woman tells me it’s not true. But look what I found today in the mail:

You’ve heard it. You’ve read it. You’ve been saturated by it. The rumor is that the deposed Queen of Shaq’s castle has been bumping her uglies up on the personal trainer.

Damnit, I knew personal trainers were bad news! I knew it since Shaq’s Big Challenge. A whole team of them couldn’t drop a few pounds of blubbery giggle off those fatty turd children. Personal trainers are sucking Shaq dry!