When in doubt, blame the muppet!
by The Juice
This article is pre-emptin' my regularly scheduled rant. I was plannin’ to write an article on how x-rated Cosmopolitan magazine is compared to one of my favorite “adult” magazines, Club. I was gonna ask what the difference was between advice article written in both magazines. Yea, I know what you’re thinkin’. “That's fairly clever, Bruce.” Thanks. I appreciate the low cost attaboy! However, at the last second, I had a change of heart. Now, I don’t know about you, but I used to hate when I would sit down in front of the tube on Tuesday nights at 7:57 to watch Happy Days and for some reason the show would get pre-empted. Damn, that would piss me off somethin’ fierce! It was always somethin’ stupid, too. Like the goofy president gettin’ caught doin’ somethin’ stupid. Or the fucking Olympics. Does anyone even give 7 shits about the Olympics anymore? Whatever. The point is, I have a good reason for puttin' aside a perfectly good article. And I didn't stuff any cigars into any interns where cigars aren't normally stuffed.
And what might my reason be? Well, I’m sure you’ve heard it already. It’s not like I’m CN-fucking-N, here. But, Cookie Monster is apparently straightenin’ up his act. That he won’t be singin’ "C is for Cookie". Some shit about cookie being a sometimes food. WTF, is say! I first heard about this nonsense last week. The missus brought this to my attention. I thought she was smokin’ crack again. And I told her as much. The situation kinda went down like thus:
“Hey, Hunny. Didja hear about Cookie Monster?” she asked.
I gave her a sideways glance, the way I usually do when she’s buggin’ me first thing in the mornin’. “What? Why ya buggin' me so early?” I said shovelin’ in another spoonful of corn flakes
“Buggin' ya? So early in the mornin’?” she repeated. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell ya she was bein’ sarcastic. “It’s 11:30, Bruce. The mornin’ came and left without ya.” She huffed makin’ her way over to the sink
“Whatever.” I sneered. I flipped the page. Slowly. Can’t miss a detail. It was quiet in the kitchen for a few moments. It probably would’ve been awkward, but I was to busy enjoyin' the pictures. When I got to the end of the spread, I spoke up. “Uhhh….Did you say somethin’ hunny?”
“What?” the missus turned away from the sink.
“I said, Did you say somethin’?’”
She gave me that look. You know the one I’m talkin’ about here. “Yes, Bruce. I said somethin’. Like, 10 minutes ago” she said, grittin’ her teeth.
“Oh.” I replied. “Whatja say?”
Quick like a flash, she grabs a wooden spoon and threw it across the room. She tends to do that. I’m sure she was aimin’ for my head. I’m pretty quick, though. “I knew you wasn’t payin' attention. You never pay attention to me.”
I rolled my eyes. After I did it, I started prayin’ that she didn’t see it. Cause I wasn't sure what else was loaded in that sink of hers. She didn’t see my look, though. “I was readin’ Playboy, sweetheart. You know I don’t hear nothin’ when I’m reading my nudie mags. Besides, I’m listen’ now”
She gave me the devil look as she walked the five feet from the kitchen to the livin’ room to get the wooden spoon. I braced for another onslaught. “Whatever.” she spat.
I flashed her my killer smile as I made my way over to her. I reached out and put my arms around her. “C’mon, baby. You know I luv ya.” I give her a little peck on the neck. I know how much she hates that. She thinks I like doin' it to her, though. So she puts up with. Turns out I just do it to get on her nerves. It's a nice uncommunicative circle we got goin' on. “What we’re you gonna tell me?”
She giggles and squirms away. “You’re the livin' end, Bruce Ian Brockman.” She adjusts her mini skirt. “On the radio they wuz sayin’ that Cookie Monster isn’t eatin’ cookies anymore.”
“What?” I gave her a screwed up look. “Are you smokin’ crack again, woman?”
Turns out I’m not so fast after all. Cause, she managed to knock me in the ol’ noggin’ from across the kitchen with her metal cheese grater. Don’t worry. I’m alright. The bleedin’ eventually stopped.
So, after tendin' my wound, I did some investigatin’. Turns out the missus was right! And you know what? I haven’t apologized for callin' her a crack whore, either. ‘Cause I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before she’s pickin’ up the pipe again. At this point, I'll show you my digression hand...
I gotta ask…What the fuck is the matter with Sesame Street? Is it Cookie Monster’s fault that kids are so fucking fat? Probably, so. I mean, who would ever consider it bein' mommy and daddy’s responsibility? Clearly, it’s Cookie Monster’s fault for stuffin’ kids full of junk while they sat in front of the death tube, or played video games til their thumbs cramped.
So, what the Street is tellin’ us is that Cookie Monster is more responsible for gettin’ kids fat than say…Ronnie McDonald? I mean, Cookie Monster is on the TV, what? 5 – 10 minutes over the course of an hour long program? But good ol’ McDonalds commercials are on every 10 minutes all god damn day. That wouldn’t have anythin' to do with kids gettin’ fat, right? Or the umpteen commercials for Frosted Flakes and Lucky fucking Charms. Have you seen the amount of cereal commercials on Saturday mornings? And lets not forget about those Lunchables "they" are constantly advertisin'. Those sodium entombed deli meats are just soooo healthy. With a half life a 100 years, how could they not be?
Let’s face it. In the end it’s not McDonalds, Oscar Mayer or Kellogg’s fault that kids are fat (and I say this not only because they are sponsors of this website, I’m just CYAin’ here. slightly) It’s the responsibility of mommy and daddy. Oh, I here you boo-hooin’. Maybe you should’ve thought twice when the pants were about to be unbuttoned, right? I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. Kids are a pain in the ass. I should freakin’ know. They are entirely too much work. That being said, we can’t just let TV, the government and fast food stops take care of kids. We have to. So, here’s an idear. Turn off the TV. Make the kid go out side and ride a bike. Now look, I’m not what they call an outdoorsy type. But, even I make it a point to turn off the TV once in awhile. I can’t say I spend that much time outside. The fresh air just ain’t that good for my complexion. However, a wise man once said…Do as I say, not as I do!
Now that the bloods all nice and riled up, I guess it’s time to gather the kids and head on over to McD’s!!!! I can’t stand when I get serious! Where’s my fucking Big Mac!!!
This article is pre-emptin' my regularly scheduled rant. I was plannin’ to write an article on how x-rated Cosmopolitan magazine is compared to one of my favorite “adult” magazines, Club. I was gonna ask what the difference was between advice article written in both magazines. Yea, I know what you’re thinkin’. “That's fairly clever, Bruce.” Thanks. I appreciate the low cost attaboy! However, at the last second, I had a change of heart. Now, I don’t know about you, but I used to hate when I would sit down in front of the tube on Tuesday nights at 7:57 to watch Happy Days and for some reason the show would get pre-empted. Damn, that would piss me off somethin’ fierce! It was always somethin’ stupid, too. Like the goofy president gettin’ caught doin’ somethin’ stupid. Or the fucking Olympics. Does anyone even give 7 shits about the Olympics anymore? Whatever. The point is, I have a good reason for puttin' aside a perfectly good article. And I didn't stuff any cigars into any interns where cigars aren't normally stuffed.
And what might my reason be? Well, I’m sure you’ve heard it already. It’s not like I’m CN-fucking-N, here. But, Cookie Monster is apparently straightenin’ up his act. That he won’t be singin’ "C is for Cookie". Some shit about cookie being a sometimes food. WTF, is say! I first heard about this nonsense last week. The missus brought this to my attention. I thought she was smokin’ crack again. And I told her as much. The situation kinda went down like thus:
“Hey, Hunny. Didja hear about Cookie Monster?” she asked.
I gave her a sideways glance, the way I usually do when she’s buggin’ me first thing in the mornin’. “What? Why ya buggin' me so early?” I said shovelin’ in another spoonful of corn flakes
“Buggin' ya? So early in the mornin’?” she repeated. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell ya she was bein’ sarcastic. “It’s 11:30, Bruce. The mornin’ came and left without ya.” She huffed makin’ her way over to the sink
“Whatever.” I sneered. I flipped the page. Slowly. Can’t miss a detail. It was quiet in the kitchen for a few moments. It probably would’ve been awkward, but I was to busy enjoyin' the pictures. When I got to the end of the spread, I spoke up. “Uhhh….Did you say somethin’ hunny?”
“What?” the missus turned away from the sink.
“I said, Did you say somethin’?’”
She gave me that look. You know the one I’m talkin’ about here. “Yes, Bruce. I said somethin’. Like, 10 minutes ago” she said, grittin’ her teeth.
“Oh.” I replied. “Whatja say?”
Quick like a flash, she grabs a wooden spoon and threw it across the room. She tends to do that. I’m sure she was aimin’ for my head. I’m pretty quick, though. “I knew you wasn’t payin' attention. You never pay attention to me.”
I rolled my eyes. After I did it, I started prayin’ that she didn’t see it. Cause I wasn't sure what else was loaded in that sink of hers. She didn’t see my look, though. “I was readin’ Playboy, sweetheart. You know I don’t hear nothin’ when I’m reading my nudie mags. Besides, I’m listen’ now”
She gave me the devil look as she walked the five feet from the kitchen to the livin’ room to get the wooden spoon. I braced for another onslaught. “Whatever.” she spat.
I flashed her my killer smile as I made my way over to her. I reached out and put my arms around her. “C’mon, baby. You know I luv ya.” I give her a little peck on the neck. I know how much she hates that. She thinks I like doin' it to her, though. So she puts up with. Turns out I just do it to get on her nerves. It's a nice uncommunicative circle we got goin' on. “What we’re you gonna tell me?”
She giggles and squirms away. “You’re the livin' end, Bruce Ian Brockman.” She adjusts her mini skirt. “On the radio they wuz sayin’ that Cookie Monster isn’t eatin’ cookies anymore.”
“What?” I gave her a screwed up look. “Are you smokin’ crack again, woman?”
Turns out I’m not so fast after all. Cause, she managed to knock me in the ol’ noggin’ from across the kitchen with her metal cheese grater. Don’t worry. I’m alright. The bleedin’ eventually stopped.
So, after tendin' my wound, I did some investigatin’. Turns out the missus was right! And you know what? I haven’t apologized for callin' her a crack whore, either. ‘Cause I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before she’s pickin’ up the pipe again. At this point, I'll show you my digression hand...
I gotta ask…What the fuck is the matter with Sesame Street? Is it Cookie Monster’s fault that kids are so fucking fat? Probably, so. I mean, who would ever consider it bein' mommy and daddy’s responsibility? Clearly, it’s Cookie Monster’s fault for stuffin’ kids full of junk while they sat in front of the death tube, or played video games til their thumbs cramped.
So, what the Street is tellin’ us is that Cookie Monster is more responsible for gettin’ kids fat than say…Ronnie McDonald? I mean, Cookie Monster is on the TV, what? 5 – 10 minutes over the course of an hour long program? But good ol’ McDonalds commercials are on every 10 minutes all god damn day. That wouldn’t have anythin' to do with kids gettin’ fat, right? Or the umpteen commercials for Frosted Flakes and Lucky fucking Charms. Have you seen the amount of cereal commercials on Saturday mornings? And lets not forget about those Lunchables "they" are constantly advertisin'. Those sodium entombed deli meats are just soooo healthy. With a half life a 100 years, how could they not be?
Let’s face it. In the end it’s not McDonalds, Oscar Mayer or Kellogg’s fault that kids are fat (and I say this not only because they are sponsors of this website, I’m just CYAin’ here. slightly) It’s the responsibility of mommy and daddy. Oh, I here you boo-hooin’. Maybe you should’ve thought twice when the pants were about to be unbuttoned, right? I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. Kids are a pain in the ass. I should freakin’ know. They are entirely too much work. That being said, we can’t just let TV, the government and fast food stops take care of kids. We have to. So, here’s an idear. Turn off the TV. Make the kid go out side and ride a bike. Now look, I’m not what they call an outdoorsy type. But, even I make it a point to turn off the TV once in awhile. I can’t say I spend that much time outside. The fresh air just ain’t that good for my complexion. However, a wise man once said…Do as I say, not as I do!
Now that the bloods all nice and riled up, I guess it’s time to gather the kids and head on over to McD’s!!!! I can’t stand when I get serious! Where’s my fucking Big Mac!!!
posted by the Juice at 11:32 PM
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