You just made my list!

I really could have just titled this post “The hats worn by Pearl Jam’s Jeff Ament” and been done with it, but I didn’t want to cheat you out of my hilarious musings.

What is it with old white guys in shitty bands and their love affair with backwards Kangol, berets and other random dumb hats? Obviously a high percentage of these turds (especially Jeff Ament) wear these silly things in a sad attempt to fool the audience* into thinking a wild mane of thick, luxurious hair is waiting to spring forth from its hat cage. Unfortunately we all know the truth.

I can almost forgive the bald guys, but what’s really upsetting are the guys who actually think they look “cool” and youthful because they are rocking a beret. I think in their minds it’s sort of like the cliche of the bookish secretary who needs only to let down her hair and remove her glasses to suddenly look like a porn star. These guys come home after a long casual Friday, pop on the T-shirt/blazer combo, carefully place the Kangol hat at just the right angle that says “whatever man, I’m just hangin'” and, ta-da, the transformation from working stiff to rock star is complete!

I really take comfort in being better than everyone.

*audience = 5 people from their office who had to attend because they have run out of excuses.

First, I need to put myself on my list for watching NBC’s latest waste-of-video tape “I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!” three nights in a row. In fact, as I type this I am watching Janice Dickinson cry because John Salley called her a bitch and a motherfucker for spilling water in his boots and using his shampoo. Stephen Baldwin thinks he’s justified and Sanjaya just wants to chill on the hammock. Oddly, Patti Blagojevich is the most likable person on the show. I’m only watching because I want to see when the actual celebrities join the cast. I mean, they are going to have celebrities on this show at some point, right?

Anyhoo, thanks to this future Emmy-winner, I have been introduced to Janice Dickinson’s fleshy horror show that she calls a neck. I could probably type the night away about Janice Dickinson’s loathsome personality but it’s really her ghastly neck that has ruined my night. RUINED IT! I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to describe her neck and I think I figured it out. It looks like an enormous, veiny penis! Yeah, she’s a shriveled head sitting precariously on top of a beastly, repulsive monster cock.

I’m going to be sick.

Yeah, that’s right, at some point today I accidentally deleted 10+ hours worth of work. The end result is 1) I don’t feel like writing about anything tonight (sorry) and 2) I’m going to get drunk.

Please continue yesterday’s discussion about whether or not little people are, in fact, people.

My life is a nightmare.

Enough already with the little people, TLC! I have nothing against these (or any) little people, but that does not mean I want to watch them buy groceries and mow the lawn. No offense little people, but you are as boring as “normal” people. Just because you are wearing doll clothes, it does not make the mundane suddenly exciting. WOW, that was mean! Sorry about that little people, you just got hit with a little (no pun intended) rage shrapnel. My beef is really with TLC. The latest addition to their cavalcade of tiny people is “The Little Couple.” From what I gather it’s a show about a couple that is little. I bet the Roloff family from “Little People, Big World” is up in tiny arms over this new show.

Is it just me or is TLC turning into the freakshow tent of the basic cable circus? Seems like every time I whiz past TLC, there’s either an 800-lb. woman being lifted from her bedroom window by helicopter or a there’s a fucking guy turning into a tree. A TREE!

I’m sorry, but doesn’t TLC stand for “The Learning Channel?” What exactly am I learning from TLC? I’m learning to thank pretend God for not giving me two heads and extra hands growing out of my back.

Why is it when I order spaghetti, penne or gnocchi in an Italian restaurant, they give me a bowl the size of an above-ground pool, but when I order ravioli I am handed a plate so void of food I think I might be part of a hilarious hidden-camera prank show? Remind me again why these 4 raviolis are more expensive than a bathtub full of noodles? I’m hungry god damn it, now go back into that kitchen and get me some more ravi-fucking-oli!