Monday, December 22, 2008

Christmas from the Cancer Ward

Life in the Bay Area is pretty predictable, at least for me. Wake up, masturbate, breakfast, work, lunch, back to work, gym, dinner, masturbate, masturbate, sleep. Repeat that 7 times a week, but subtract out the work twice and replace it with more jacking off and maybe some drinking. I think the only variety I get in my daily schedule comes from the television. In New York I almost never watch TV, we don’t have cable, and even though I own hundreds of DVD’s, I actually don’t watch movies all that often. But here, in the soul crushingly exciting town of San Anselmo, I probably watch 10+ hours a week. I have to say, TV is pretty rad. You can learn so much from it. Survivor Man and Man vs. Wild have taught me how to extract water from elephant feces and how filter my urine so that it won’t kill me the next time I drink it. MTV has a show about spoiled bitches that teaches me that rich eighteen year old whores really don't like poor people. In another show about a spoiled bitch, some gay dude has a contest where a bunch of other gay dudes compete to be his “friend.” From what the previews tell me, this is going to be even better than that show where Flava Flav had a bunch of low rent skanks fight for the honor of being the next slut to put Flava’s dick in her mouth. Television rules.

However, the best part of holiday season television is the commercials. Just about every one is hurting economically and these big companies have to work extra hard to get you to spend all that money you don’t have. My favorite attempt has to be this epically creepy Macy’s commercial:



Look at the all-star cast! Nothing says Merry Christmas like a bimbo, criminals, a really creepy old dude, and uh, Carlos Santana? If Santa and Jesus weren’t so busy making shitty wooden toys I’m sure they would have no problem unleashing the end of times on our trashy tasteless asses. Merry Christmas dickbags!

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