I’m a simple man.
Lord knows, I don’t ask for much out of life, other than the basics: enough money to live however I want for as long as I want wherever I want and to buy the occasional tasty cheeseburger. Other than that, my needs are few. One of those needs is the king of reality TV, Survivor. I work hard all week to make it to Thursday night so I can watch the human equivalent of flotsam and jetsam make hideous asses of themselves in a desperate attempt to win either $1 million and/or an offer to show their golden bozos in Playboy, thereby making my own life seem better.
So when I hear that the President has decided at the last minute to hold a press conference at 8:00pm on Thursday, well, suffice it to say I’m not happy. So, not only did I have to wait an hour last night to see if Stephanie could survive another Tribal Council, but I had to spend that hour watching President Gomer tell me how he’s going to reduce my Social Security benefits on top of it all. Talk about kicking a guy in the nuts when he’s down…
What’s he doing up that late anyways? I always heard he went to bed really early. We’ve all seen how he functions on a full night’s sleep. This country can’t afford to have that banana operating on anything less than ten to twelve hours of sleep.
Mr. President, feel free to invade all the countries you want, drill for oil in the Brazillian rain forest until your heart’s content or floss your teeth with the beak of the last known ivory-billed woodpecker but never, ever mess with a man’s reality television schedule.
Thanks, dude. You’re the best. Well, not really. Just don’t do it again.-Chum [link | comment]