You just made my list!

If you have ever traveled by car through the Midwest, or “the belly of the beast” as I call it, you will know exactly what I am talking about. By the way, I have literally never called the Midwest “the belly of the beast” and I have no idea why I wrote that.

Anyway, as you drive through the flat middle of America there are a few things you are guaranteed to see… billboards for Jesus, adult bookstores, fireworks stores all claiming to be the world’s largest and/or craziest, J.B. Hunt trucks and inexplicable clusters of generic housing developments in the middle of corn fields.

Let me be clear, I am not criticizing the people who live in these homes. If this is their American dream then great, I am almost happy for them. I’m just saying that when I see these cookie-cutter, soulless houses huddling together like frightened bunnies with nothing more than a single tiny tree to shelter them from the whipping winds a wave of depression washes over me. I’m not kidding, these communities are my idea of hell on earth. HELL ON EARTH!

If you are wondering why this isn’t very funny or interesting it’s because I’m super tired from my drive home today and I just woke up from a nap. I hate naps. I always feel worse after a nap. You hear that naps, I think you just made my list too!

I’m not dumb, I understand WHY people were initially fascinated by the Octo-mom but can’t we move on to the next freak now?

Weeks ago I thought about writing something about this weirdo but it’s too obvious. How could I possibly add a fresh perspective to the subject? This human clown car* is obviously sick and any reasonable person should be able to acknowledge that and move on. So why the hell do I have to see her Angelina-Jolie-post -flaming-car-accident face every time I turn on the TV?

Don’t try to blame the media either. If they were not getting ratings from the subject they would drop the story faster than Octo-mom drops babies out of her skirt. ZING!

I know most people can’t look away from a car wreck like this but I really think they should. At best, give it a quick glance but then fight the urge to stare. I’m honestly not trying to be holier than thou but I have a real problem with people who are entertained by others’ misery (unless it’s someone getting hit in the nuts.) I feel like everyone’s fascination with this woman and her soon-to-be-fucked up kids is like watching a cock fight.

I’m pretty sure I will win some sort of major literary (I just misspelled literary) award for this post.

*I totally stole that from someone. Shut up.

I saw A LOT of short, sassy mom hair last week on vacation starting with this gem of a hairdo at the airport. This woman wants the world to know that the kids are in college and she’s ready to put on a comfortable pair of Crocs and get tipsy on 1 and a half margaritas. Oh what the hay, she might even order it with salt on the rim. I’m guessing someone is going to get his bald head rubbed too.

The thing that makes sassy mom hair so special is the fact that, unlike the mullet, it’s party up front and an even bigger party in the back. The whole fucking head is in party mode!

Wait, do I like sassy hair or hate it? I can’t tell anymore.

I want to hate Ryan Seacrest so bad! I want the sight of his face to make poop involuntarily explode from my ass. I’m not sure why I would want that to happen now that I think of it. Let’s just say every cell in my body tells me to hate this turd but I can’t do it. I LIKE RYAN SEACREST and I want the world to know it!

You know what, good for him for realizing his only talent is being a bland nice guy and making a career of it. If there was a computer programmed to create humans and you instructed it to create the absolute least offensive person possible it would shoot out Ryan Seacrest. On paper that sounds like reason enough to hate him but it’s not. There are plenty of bland celebrities worthy of your anger but they are offensively boring. Ryan is just lovably boring.

So who’s offensively bland? People like Pete Wentz, Jay Leno and Gwen Stefani are aggressively boring to me whereas Ryan is just lovably middle-of-the-road. He’s smart too. He stays out of trouble and works hard at being America’s nice guy. It’s making him rich and making me fall in love with him.

Maybe it’s the fever talking.

We’ve all been to Bed Bath & Beyond and marveled at their wall of shitty mass-produced art. Most of us (I hope all of you) make the correct decision to keep walking straight out the door with our bags filled with water filters, shower radios, margarita stations, candles and various unneeded “As Seen on TV” items. Believe it or not, there are people who stop at the giant wall of crap and think, “I wonder if that painting of the word ‘dream’ would fit over our bed?”

Holy shit, look at this photo I took today. I don’t want to live in a world with people who see framed plates and don’t have the instinct to smash them with a baseball bat. The words “mass-produced” and “art” should never be near each other. OK smart ass, go ahead and lecture me about Andy Warhol or popular music. Get it out of your system (I looking at you Jeff). This is different and you know it.

Believe it or not there is something even worse than the Bed Bath & Beyond “art” gallery. When I see the crap, hipster, bullshit “art” that Urban Outfitters sells I want to pick up the nearest pair of $100 purposely-ripped jeans and hang myself. It turns my stomach. Is there anything less hip than plastering your walls with the same piece of shit silk screened monster truck that the rest of your dipshit hipster friends have?

People who are lucky enough to have visited my home may question my choice in art but if anything it’s the exact opposite of mass-produced.

It’s not easy being so right all the time but I manage.

I can’t think of a way to make this funny so deal with it. Maybe by the end I can pull some brilliance from my beautiful butt.

I have a Sirius radio in my car but it’s the kind that docks into my existing radio. It’s starting to die and act like an asshole. It likes to change the channel at random times as if to say, “hey loser this song sucks, check out this Limp Bizkit song over on channel 24.” I don’t want Limp Bizkit thrust upon me so I was thinking it was time for a new radio. No big deal right? I mean it’s 4 years old, I got my money’s worth.

WRONG! I hate that I currently have a drawer full of “out-of-date” cell phones and a once state-of-the-art iMac that I literally can’t give away because it’s 6 years old. I understand why nobody wants my old computer but it’s crazy how disposable this stuff is. Do TV repairmen even exist anymore?

I hate that we find it acceptable if a CD player works for only 3 years before breaking. We don’t think twice about chucking it in the garbage and heading over to Best Buy to get a replacement. My stereo (do people even have stereos anymore?) is made up of components from the 70’s except for my CD player which I purchased in 1989. Not only do they all work perfectly, they sound amazing.

Our disposable culture kind of freaks me out. Maybe it’s because I’m old and still own a stereo. Told you this wouldn’t be funny.

Unfortunately my friend sent me a link to these “Talking Head Tables” yesterday and now I’m pretty sure our friendship is over. I don’t want to live in a world where this exists. I’m not kidding, one of us has to go. It’s me or the guy who makes his living dressed as a pile of shit.

I quit.

I was trying to find a way to make this funny but when I think back to the last 8 years I find very little to laugh about in the world of American politics. Well, maybe Sarah Palin, man was she hilarious! So I will simply say to George W. Bush, Dick Cheney and all their toadies…

FUCK OFF! I hope we never see your faces again.