Hey you B-movie maniacs, listen up!
I got a few things (other than bacon bits and an painful rash) that I need to get off of my chest ... so I thought I'd waste your time, along with mine, for some ramblings, whining, bitching, and some of what Mr. T and I affectionately refer to as "JIBBA-JABBER".
So let's get our collective toes out of the frigid waters of apprehension (because you know as well as I, that this column is probably a bad idea on my part), and dive right into the shallow end of my thoughts. Let's talk about the very media that so viciously consumes hours of my time when I'm not willingly volunteering it.
heard it referred to as "the great baby sitter", it informs us,
educates us, enlightens us, frightens us, makes us cry, laugh, and
most of all, THINK. Bullshit! That's right, Bullshit! (damn
that looks dramatic!)
TV: THE PARTY KILLER.
Nothing sucks harder than a cathode vampire at
shin-dig. Trust me guys, if you want instant girl repellent, grab
the remote and start perusing your X-files DVD's. And never, ever,
ever, watch Dumpsterpiece Theatre at a party. Everyone knows girls
hate our show....
Until Next Time,
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