Dr. Seuss Was An A-Hole

Now that I'm evil, thanks to my new glasses, my first project as a supervillain while hyperlairianism is under construction is to invent a resurrection machine.  The first person I resurrect will be Dr. Seuss.  "How sweet!" you're all thinking.  "He wants to resurrect a beloved author of classic children books!"  Let me explain phase two of Operation Seuss Puncher: after I resurrect Dr. Seuss, I'm going to punch him repeatedly in the nuts.

Why would I want to hurt one of the most beloved authors of the last century in the testicles?  He made fun of me, that's why.  I was reading One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish to my heir last night and came across a startling and insulting passage.

Look at that insulting caricature of me!  Yes, I know, I'm hairy, but to depict me as nothing more than an animal is crossing the line.  Especially a butt-lipped slave of an animal!  Look at how I'm forced to sit at the back of the bike while the white-as-ghosts children get to sit up front and control where the bike goes.  And what happens when the going gets too tough for the Aryan brats?

Mike does all the work when the hills get high!  Eff this shiz!  I have bad knees!  Also, I'm fat, and I get winded by hills while I'm carrying nothing but the hair on my back.

You know, if this were the '70s, my body hair would be appreciated.