Monday, December 11, 2006

Why I am number 1

While the rest of you write about your personal problems or celebrity gossip on your blogs. I am doing the really heavy lifting that blog writing requires from a "h" level blogger celebrity.

I have to be very careful about what I write because as the google's foremost authority on Jessica Hawn the world takes my opinions seriously.

That's why I didn't initially post my response to this story. The post was in the form of a "real time " blog.

Journal entries of a guy freezing to death.

Day 1
Its cold and we're lost.

Day 2
Still lost and cold.

Day 3
Burn tire. Burned second tire.

Day 6
Now she's even breast feeding the toddler. God that's hot! How can I still be horny when I am so damn hungry?

Day 7
I lost straws. Guess I get "lucky" enough to try and get help.

Day 8
Fuck, it's cold. Should have burned one of them kids for heat instead of the tires. If we had tires we might have been able to drive back the way we came in. If we hadn't used up all the gas on "keeping the kids feet warm."

Day 9
Hey haven't I seen this creek before? I am tired. Just take a nap here for second. Then I'll head back to the car.

I know what you're thinking, "too soon." But every now and then I need to shock you in to some common sense. If you give a shit about this guy at all you should shoot yourself.

Or I'll do it for you. You're like my favorite cousin on crack. Do I have to piss on you for my pornographic incest webcam before you hit rock bottom? Because I will. I will pee all over you.

You "feel" for the guy. I know, but it's all just a trick of your brain. You are responding to a dramatic story that you've able to visualize and dramatize. You give a shit about this guy because you can relate to it. You can imagine yourself in his situation. You can wrap your brain around it.

Unlike say all the kids being exploited and killed because some soccer mom needs a 6 carrot piece of rock on her hand. The 61 billion dollar diamond industry is responsible for untold death and misery. Financing war and impoverishing the very people it should have enriched.

But other than infertile Hollywood mothers who cares about African babies? The national emotional outpouring for this one unlucky family is incommensurate and illogical considering the magnitude of suffering that every single one of your married fucks has personally fostered on tiny African children.

Don't even pretend to tell me you have never heard the diamonds are blood story. Stop feeling good about feeling bad about how some dumbass who can't use mapquest waits 9 days to long to go looking for help.

Just throw away your diamond rings and donate a few dollars to African village. Burn down a McDonald's. Do something.

This post is dedicated to anyone else weirded out by how happy his wife looked when she got rescued. She didn't seem concerned at all about the husband. I am just saying.

No comments: