I got a zit the size of a bait shop on my back...

Based on a new morning schedule, I’m typing this as my kid sits next to me, intermittently screaming at the dogs (who are licking his pacifier, which he threw on the ground) and manhandling a plateful of scrambled eggs with a hasslehoffian grace. It’s distracting. Also worth mentioning is that I’ve recently begun working on a dancy, islandy number that’s all about making people cry after they give you blowjobs and you throw them out of your house, and well, I can’t quite get it out of my head (HA! That’s a pun, assholes!)
What else is going on today? I have to work. The Menzingers finished up their record which sounds fucking AWESOME! I particularly like the songs I sang guest vocals on. Those seem like they’ve really got that special something extra. I watched the president last night, but it all just seemed like the extremely boring precursor to what’s sadly become the ‘real event’ in this country(which is, ironically the very thing that the Pres said the American people were sick of), namely, pundits synthesizing the speech, whittling it down to easy talking points and explaining how people should feel about it. Last night, millions of people patiently waited through the rhetoric and clapping and standing and sitting and longwindedness and oratorical zeal and all that crap and just sat there waiting for Brian Williams, Rachel Maddow, Sean Hannity, Keith Olbermann, Bill O’reily, or John Stewart to tell them how well Barack did. Nice one.
Here’s the funny thing. If you, in fact, didn’t watch the speech, which I’m guessing most of you didn’t, could you wager what these people above thought of it? I didn’t watch any punditry, but I’m guessing (and I’m predicting 98% accuracy on this guess) that it went, in order, cautiously saying it was pretty strong at times but had serious flaws, loved it, hated it, loved it, hated it, makes a dick joke tonight.
These pundits are so beholden to their party lines, and for good reason. They’re up against pundits that are so beholden to their party lines that if they’re not equally zealous, they look like simpering pussies in comparison, and that, my friends is the political equivalent of lacking confidence when you’re going in for the “blow me while I drive around the block” move. No, Lou Dobbs can’t afford to seem moderate, or give an inch, because he’s surrounded by hawks on both sides, and he and his ilk (on both sides) earn all their money pretending to be your old crotchety grandfathers who just hate the way the fags and the abortionists are turning the notion of the american fifties around and around in its grave, OR your (quasi) radical gay uncle who just hates the crotchety grandfather and swings wide to embrace everything he hates even when it’s kind of ridiculous.
Remember when you were a kid and you’d ask your mom “why do I have to make my bed? I’m just gonna sleep in it again.”? Remember that? Well, that’s what we’re doing here with this punditry. We’re skipping the part that takes energy, because fuck it, we’re just gonna lie in whatever ideological trench our favorite pundits (or rockstars or entertainers or lady on the view) have set up for us to pledge allegiance to. And that’s pretty pathetic, America. Even for you.
When you know, you KNOW someone’s gonna fuck you, you don’t want to skip right to the part where you sneak out of their house without waking them up at four thirty in the morning and leave your socks behind, right? When you buy a beer, you don’t just crumple the can up and wait for the headache, right? Right. Know why? Because the shit in between these moments, the meat of the activities, are active pastimes (is that some kind of oxymoron?) that are enjoyable. I’d like to suggest that paying attention to something and making your own mind up about it is as enjoyable as drinking a beer, or getting sloppy head from some fat skank while her roommate snores on the couch (eh, maybe not, but you get the idea). The thing is, most of us aren’t very smart. Our opinions aren’t that sophisticated and we don’t have the benefit of knowing what’s really being talked about all the time. When we watch the State of the Union and make our own decisions and formulate our own opinions, we risk exposing the gaps in our own knowledge of the system, the problems we face as a nation, our obliviousness to the news when we present that opinion. However, it’s Sean Hannity’s JOB to know the significance of every single shred of that speech, and it’s much easier to listen to him, synthesize his (asinine, by the way) viewpoint, and sort of learn by way of the punditry. It’s a little bit like eating someone else’s shit for nutrients though. Yeah, it’ll probably work for a while, but you aren’t building much of a healthy foundation AND you’re gonna wind up full of shit.
SO with that being said, I’d like to go. I’m going to take my kid to school and then step into line in our increasingly service based economy. God bless America. Sheeesh.

Oh, quick thing: Have you seen that ad for the Larry the cable guy special? It takes place at an outdoor arena in Nebraska or something and it’s packed to the gills with mongaloids who don’t care that Larry is really from Connecticut and fakes that accent. He says something like, “wow, fifty thousand of y’all! If you need to go to wal mart, now’s a good time to go.” And boooooy-howdy! The hicks practically shoot their guns at the sky they start hootin and a’ hollerin so loud!
How’s that for fucking great? Celebrate that you shop at a store that undercuts so mercilessly that it’s put American institutions like Rubbermaid out of business and shipped jobs and profits to China, all in the name of the bottom line, celebrating all the while at the altar of a New England sophisticate “faggoty entertainer” who’s mercenarily aping the very culture he appeals to. Everyone clap. Tomorrow it’s back to the photo counter at Walmart. It’s back to the tire rotating dock at walmart. It’s back to the couch on the porch. Sheesh, again, people. Sheesh. The state of the union is uh…well, I guess I don’t like the self righteous liberal douchebags that “see things so much more clearly” than their hillbilly brethren either, so uh, that’s it for me too, I guess.
We’re fucked.
Man, Barack could have saved us all some time and just said that, right? Would have been refreshing.
“Hello. I’m Barack Obama. We’re fucked. Good night. God Bless you and God bless the United States of America. Smoke if you got ‘em.”