|09-06-2007, 04:50 AM||#1|
Join Date: Nov 2002
New Rules 8/31/07
August 31, 2007
New Rule: While we're still fighting the war on terror, airport police must spend less time on gay sex and more time on bombs. I know how important it is to keep the streets safe for heterosexuality, but there are a limited number of things to do during a layover in St. Paul-and when you cross "anonymous gay sex" off the list, there's nothing.
And airport security isn't helping! I mean, they have you take off half your clothes. Then they pat you down. Now you're horny and you've got three hours to kill.
New Rule: No more produce-scented shampoos. Avocado, cucumber, watermelon. Gee, your hair smells like a migrant worker. Is it too much to ask for a simple standard shampoo, something lead-based from China? That'll get the smell of weed out of my hair?
New Rule: The Vatican doesn't need its own airline. The Vatican has launched the world's first airline for Catholic pilgrims, with three holy destinations: Rome, Jerusalem and wherever the Virgin Mary appears on a Dorito. Which is strange, because I thought devout Catholics already had an airline. [slide shown of Virgin Airlines plane] A little late, but...
New Rule: People who have just been voted off a reality show have to stop insisting that, "You haven't heard the last of me!" Yes, I believe we have. In fact, we're sure your 15 minutes are up, because we timed you on Flava Flav's clock.
New Rule: Stop making us drink everything out of a nipple. Maybe the reason that Americans behave like children is because we're all still breastfeeding! America, land of the free, home of the adult-size sippy-cup. We need to go back to drinking the way grown-ups do, from a keg!
And finally, New Rule: Stop saying that we all killed Princess Diana because we bought the trashy tabloids that stalked her. "I buy tabloids. She was in tabloids. Oh, my God, what have I done?!" "She was too good and we were too selfish, and she died because of our sins." It's the Jesus story with a blond chick.
You know, I know it's hard to believe it's been ten years, and who can ever forget where they were when they heard the news about the death of the ex-wife of the possible heir to the figurehead leadership of a second-rate country where she almost never spent time? But...which isn't to say she was a bad person or deserved to die. It's sad when anyone dies. That's why they have the slow version of the theme song on "Entertainment Tonight."
And Diana seemed like a truly big-hearted, sincere and effective philanthropist. But I didn't kill her! And I'm not bad because I read the tabloids! And I'm going to go right on reading the tabloids for one very important reason: They amuse me. I work hard and at the end of the day, my brain is tired, and I need to feel superior to someone.
So, Nicole Richie, come on down! Britney Spears, please let me read about you this week ****ting your pants or having an abortion in the aisle of a liquor store or driving you children through a car wash with the windows down.
Princess Diana was the original Paris Hilton, only with a normal-sized human head. Well, she has a big head, that Paris. I mean, I do, too. We could mate and have giant-headed children. And instead of making a porn tape for men like Paris did, Diana had a royal wedding: a porn tape for women. Yeah, you're right, that was edgy.
And, I'm sorry, but it was a completely avoidable accident. Why race with the paparazzi? Diana's boyfriend "Dodo"-should have just hired a big-assed limousine, gotten in the back with her, rolled up the tinted windows, rolled up a fattie, popped in a WHAM tape-and chilled until they got where they were going. Which was always either a castle, a yacht, a private plane or a five-star hotel.
I think, for the pain of being photographed on the way in and out of those places, most people would take that deal. "Let's see. I work at Dairy Queen, but I could be a queen. Yes, I would have to consider that."
You know, we need the tabloids because people need to think that the beautiful people are really just lucky ****s. And tabloids are like junk food for our soul, except instead of you getting fat, John Travolta does.
The tabloids are our national guilty pleasure. They're our American birthright. They're what keep us from having to talk to the other a-holes in line at the supermarket.