Friday, March 12, 2010

Alert the media!

I can't find anything to kvetch or rant about! What is happening to me? Heeeeelp!

I could comment on Rush Limbaugh's broken promise to get the hell out of here and go pester the poor Costa Ricans, but not even that is getting my goat nowadays. These pompous hypocritical, drug addled, fat assed balloons of fetid, putrefying right wing air are so stupid it's almost pointless to make fun of them.
What happened to our healthcare bill? I don't understand the dynamics so I've stopped caring. Where are we on this? Anybody?
By the way, listen to this. I made an appointment to the eye doctor because I think I need new glasses. Can't see, can't hear, quickly becoming an old fartette. Hence, appointment.
They tell me that if I want a new prescription I have to pay $40 extra, because my insurance (which charges a $50 copay) doesn't cover a prescription. What fresh hell, to quote Dorothy Parker, is this? It's like going to the ice cream parlor and they can sell you the cone or the cup or the sprinkles, but not the ice cream.
This country has become an insane asylum. Nothing makes any sense any more. Which is why I am going to Chinatown, to my beloved Mott St. Optical, to get my prescription. This is where I got my bifocals (see old fartette, above), and the saleswoman told me: "You are going to love them. You are going to see everything!".

Perhaps you can enlighten me: why do rich people have reality shows on TV? A world in which the rich behave with even more abject vulgarity than the poor thoroughly depresses me. There are no standards anymore.
Same goes for fucking Lady Gaga. I saw her video with Beyonce (she does not depress me, somehow). Call me an old fartette, but no I didn't like the video. I like the song, but the video's trashy aesthetic is all over the place. What really disgusts me is that it's product placement central, what people in my farkakte business call, with no hint of irony or shame, branded entertainment. That even a music video today has to have product placement makes me gag. So did Virgin Mobile pay for this extended musical masturbation? Or what? Look, motherfuckers, I ain't drinking this Kool-Aid, okay? (unless you pay me handsomely to do it. I'm in advertising after all).
I saw Logorama, the animated short that won the Oscar. This is our world now, and it is not a good thing.
Hey. Looks like I got my kvetching-ranting mojo back.

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