Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Life Laughs in Our Collective Face, Karate Chops Us in the Collective Junk

At some point during our time on this planet, we discover that life is not fair. For most of us, it came at a young age when our parents grew tired of answering the question "Why?" and respond with "because life's not fair." As an innocent child, a little piece of you dies that day. It's the first time you've heard your parents give a cold, brutally final answer and once you figure out what it means, you begin to realize that things will not always go the way justice and order should have them go, which never ceases to suck.

And as you get older and experience a seemingly unlimited number of smoke breaks by justice and order, you begin to grow numb to their absence. You shrug, rub ashes in your hair and wail. Then you get on with your day. But, every now and then, certain events take place and the absurd injustice of them drives you to the brink of leaving society as a contributing member to live off the land while wearing a burlap sack you stole from a hobo and raccoon pelts for shoes. And your best friend would be a dirty Houston Astros 1986 Western Division Championship t-shirt you found on a bench in a public park. You would call him Augustus.

Those actions are easily caused by events like these:

Kenny Chesney making $65 million in a calendar year.
This is also a great indicator in just how many stupid people there really are in this world. I want to take his collection of seashell necklaces/chokers and strangle everyone who has ever given a dollar to that short, bald man. And yes, I did get some satisfaction when I read that the bottom floor of his house in Nashville flooded two weeks ago.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse riding down the street.


People like Ron Morris having paying jobs that allow them to write shitpiles of words.
He actually got paid to write this. Nice job there, Ron. By the way, the state of South Carolina isn't exactly (and never has been) a coolant to racism and racist behavior. Also, burn in a fire.

There are people breathing in this country that made Sex and the City 2 and who will also pay to see this movie.
Upon these people I wish the same number of roundhouse kicks to the throat as there are minutes in this movie. No, wait. Seconds.

NBC, a network in the loosest interpretations of the word (and home to horse races, bad Notre Dame football and a basement full of shows no one watches), deciding to relegate Parks and Recreation, its best and funniest show, to a midseason appearance next TV season.
This means that it won't make an appearance until January, whereas shows like The Office and 30 Rock will start in September/October. It's all part of a grand plan to get some crappy show good ratings and piss off the few people who still watch NBC on Thursday nights. In good news, Jay Leno still plans on not being funny.

That jackass pulling out in front of you and making it through the light while you don't.
This is why I want to drive a tank. If I didn't crush him when he pulled out in front of me, I would send a shell straight through his trunk and into his engine block, which would hopefully result in a fiery explosion and a lesson learned. I AM THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON ON THE ROAD.

The KFC Doulbe Down having something like 1 million grams of fat.
It's so delicious but you can only eat like one a year or face certain death.

And finally, and most enraging, the University of Southern California paying Lane Kiffin FOUR MILLION DOLLARS A YEAR TO COACH FOOTBALL.
After reading this, I blacked out from rage and hit my head on the table. When I awoke, I bought a used tank, drove it into a KFC, destroying the building, and promptly ate as many Double Downs as I could before the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse showed up. And I regret nothing.

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