Well, it’s a good damn thing we got our Apocolists and Don’t Give a Shit Kits sorted out… ’cause le Apocolypse c’est arrive’, y’all. Yesterday morning I not only made a joke about the President on the radio (which I try not to do, ’cause I feel sorry for the man)… but also… Glenn Beck AGREED with me. All the signs are there, folks. We’re fucked.
I still think the joke was pretty funny, but I’ll let y’all be the judges… Here’s the situation: The 2 main yay-hoo’s (we call them “DJ’s) on my show asked me, as the news girl, to explain the U.S. debt crisis. And here is what I said:
“Basically, it’s like this: China keeps calling the White House on the phone and comin’ to the door with the sheriff, and poor ol’ Barack and Michelle have to hide behind the couch eating Ramen in the dark to pretend they’re not home.”
Yes, it’s funny, but I usually try not to make Obama jokes because I LIKE him, and my radio station… does not. We’ll leave it at that.
BUT THEN: when I was on my way home from the WalMart (doing my grocery shopping in the style of Ernest Hemingway — liquor, notebooks and catfood). So anyhoo, I was listening to Glenn Beck on the way home, waiting for him to start crying because his tears taste like sunshine… when he said something horrifyingly similar to this. Basically, he was encouraging us members of the media to remember what we were like before we got so jaded and cynical and drunk and go back to actually trying to HELP PEOPLE. Now, his idea of “helping” and mine are drastically different… I vote for looking out for your fellow man and trying to do the most good — or at least the least HARM — that you can, while he… seems to favor throwing anvils at drowning people. But still, the fact that we agree even a little… upsetting.
Also, I was inexplicably pleasant to the GenPop during my shopping (I blame the fact that Sprite, which I drink at home, does NOT have caffiene whereas Mountain Dew, which is what’s in the machine at work, MOST. DEFINITELY. DOES.) Which has led me to the germ of a new Insidious Plot… more on that tomorrow!
OKAY — A THIRD SIGN. Overnight, I had the most graphic sex dream… about Prince Charles. And not young, reasonably not-too-bad-plus-hey-he’s-royalty Prince Charles… CURRENT Prince Charles. And let me tell you, nothin’ against the man, bless his lil’ pea-pickin’ heart… but when you have a sex dream about Prince Charles, there is a point at which you DESPERATELY want to wake up… and once that point passes, you start hoping you never wake up ever again. I still feel like I smell like H.P. Sauce and incontinence pants.