Monday, June 15, 2009

the land of the free and home of the spread-legs

hot comb...ouch, mama! that was my ear!



now we're in serious troubs. saturday's demise of analog television has forced all americans to go digital, giving even more people access to the sad programming agenda MTV is offering up nowadays, just in time for this gem of a series. entitled "16 and pregnant," this documentary-style reality show will follow several teens on their moribund road to single motherhood. "so, what's the big deal" you ask? it's not like this sort of trash-spawning behavior isn't going to occur anyway. i mean, come on, people--it's america. as long as food stamps are being spent on minute steaks and beer and fast-food institutions such as pizza hut defy the calorie-cutting measures even mcdonald's has taken to advocating by debuting their solid-pound-of-meat-and-cheese-p'zones, there will always be the majority of uneducated, immoral "little houses," as anna wintour put it, spawning children at inappropriate ages. and what's behind it, really, aka "please don't let your spooge enter my vagina," isn't that hard to follow, now is it?

but what really gets my nuts in a knuckle is the fact that regardless of the 'mistakes' these girls are owning up to by coming forward with their stories, nobody hates a reality tv star. not even spencer and heidi shatt. if they're good enough to be on tv, regardless of what got them there, they automatically warrant worship and devotion. what they have to say matters, even if it's expressed in terribly incorrect grammar. or through gold teeth. or through no teeth.
so by the very nature of their show, these knocked-up, bonne bell-wearing trash bags will be instant heroines, further plunging this country into a pit of low morals and garbage disposal ethics.



what's even sadder (and really, what's more sad than a parliament light as a teething aid?) is that we've got real class leading this country. i truly believe the obamas represent a new level in class and prestige, and so a presidential veto should be extended for the proliferation of this show. the program's "stars" should be shipped off to an island somewhere and assigned to isolation. give them the essentials--a few terrycloth onesies, hair gel and black eyeliner--and let them fend for themselves. save us the edited ob/gyn appointments and instead broadcast a few hours of blood-curdling screams as little patty premature labor gives birth on a rocky shore somewhere west of ecuador. what better entertainment to tail-end the brett michaels shitshow of love than some party-on placenta, no?

i'm exceptionally crabby this monday morning, so let a brother vent and maybe later we can share a few smiles in the park under the sun...if, in fact, that burning ball of gas that supposedly sustains life while ending it but only after a beautiful tan still exists.

1 comment:

Maharaja said...

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