Sunday, June 12, 2005

Ready?

Let's begin.

The world is gong to hell in a handbasket, not on the express route, thankfully, but still it's noticably frightening, and retarded and odd and not always necessary. For one, we have the introduction of Bratz dolls. Who thought that bullshit up? These are worse than Barbie, and I can't even trash her that much because she's an icon, a poor one, but an icon nonetheless. These bodaciously bobble-headed bishes have worse eye makeup than Tammy Faye, and bodies Twiggy would look gigantic next to. Not to mention the Slut Factor these things have. These are the last thing I'd let my little girl play with. And what about the boy Bratz? Ugh. Can you say Backdoor Boys? I can almost see them lined up doing some stupid dance routine and howling some unfortunate tune about girlfriends and all that sappy shit.

Next on our political plate, we have people 'splashing' urine on other religious holy books. This is ridiculous. First of all, how do you just splash something with your piss? Was it bathroom reading and you turned and it got all over it? Did you fill up a glass and toss it on that general direction? Whoever raised these folks to have a little respect didn't do it right. POW's or not, they're still humans. (I sense a kettle a fish...)

Now thes eman are the same ones who attacked out men, blew up Jeeps, whatever it was they did. Well, we just invaded their country. What would you do? Would you sit idly by and just watch it happen? No, I doubt that would happen. There would be absolute fucking chaos. Some mother fucker would go crazy try to take them all on themself... We's have ourselves a new Rambo.

"Rambo 3" is a fascinating and unintended exposé of American (and Western, more generally) politics in the Middle East. Lest we should forget, it takes place in Afghanistan, where the bare chested one, played by famous American right-winger S. Stallone, goes to rescue his mentor "who covered his ass" ...and take on the entire Red Army. Almost. During the course of his mission, he teams up with what can only be described as proto-Taliban, who are equally, if undeveloped, hell (oops) bent on doing away with the Soviets. The best is to come : the film is actually dedicated to "the gallant people of Afghanistan" and there you have it, a perfect history lesson in a nutshell.

(Found here)

As a note, the tribe in the film wasn't really proto-Taliban, as there were things depicted that the Taliban frowns deeply upon, such as the women were not covered completely.

Enough about that, I don't know as much about this as I make it seem. But I DO know about velour jogging suits.

Maybe it's just me, but I don't consider that the kind of attire to leave the house is for anything other than running to the store to get milk. Same with pyjamas...and SWEATPANTS! Gross. Just gross.

And these velour jumpsuit thingies are always worn by girls who are wearing TOO much lipgloss, FAR too blonde, wearing platform flip-flops accompanied by fully dressed males. I won't go on. It's wretched. Loungewear shouldn't be worn outside the house.

I've run out of steam. Goddamn velour.


link | Whatsername again....? posted at 4:01 PM |


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