Thanks, FXH
So, I'm having a go at this W:Bloggar thingy. We'll see.
What I want to tell you about today kiddies, is one of the less fortunate events I was forced to suffer through over the christmas period. You see, it wasn't all sweetness and light and conspicuous consumption; ohhhh no. I was forced to suffer through an abominable experience, one I feel sure that the gubment doesn't know about or there would be legislation introduced into parliament to outlaw the practice. I am of course talking about the disturbing habit some teenagers have of watching Mary-Kate and Ashley movies.
I did manage to escape very early on in the piece and with the help of a few counselling sessions and much beer imbibing, I feel that I am now ready to talk about my experience. The aforesaid movie is apparently a road movie. Because of my extraordinary powers of perception, I was able to deduce this quite early in the piece as a) all the action took place in a motor car - quite a nice motor car actually, spoiled only by the presence of annoying teenagers,b) there was frequent mention in what can only be loosely described as 'dialogue' of the recent acquisition of Drivers Licencs and c) just in case you still didn't get it, there were frequent interjctions into the conversation of "Roadtrip! Woo!" with attendant arm waving and high fives.
I don't know what happened after that; by this time I had realised the apalling depth to which I had sunk in my depravity and took steps to rectify it.* This is the first time I have seen any of the Olsens work since they were little, alledgedly cute, kids on Full House, or whatever it was.
I had, of course seen magazine articles about them (Which one is anorexic, at least, which one admits she is anorexic?), I had problems trying to work out their popularity then; now I'm completely confused.
They can't act, they can't dance, they can't sing and they've got heads on them like robbers dogs. They look like a Saturday Night Live parody of stereotypical California mallrats, right down to their Gladstone small pigeon necks.
What's to like?
I'm so confused.
Meanwhile, I'm outta here again, cop you later.
*Actually, I'd been snoozing on the couch when the horror started. The steps to rectification consisted of a) getting up and b) leaving the room. Pretty easy, really.
What I want to tell you about today kiddies, is one of the less fortunate events I was forced to suffer through over the christmas period. You see, it wasn't all sweetness and light and conspicuous consumption; ohhhh no. I was forced to suffer through an abominable experience, one I feel sure that the gubment doesn't know about or there would be legislation introduced into parliament to outlaw the practice. I am of course talking about the disturbing habit some teenagers have of watching Mary-Kate and Ashley movies.
I did manage to escape very early on in the piece and with the help of a few counselling sessions and much beer imbibing, I feel that I am now ready to talk about my experience. The aforesaid movie is apparently a road movie. Because of my extraordinary powers of perception, I was able to deduce this quite early in the piece as a) all the action took place in a motor car - quite a nice motor car actually, spoiled only by the presence of annoying teenagers,b) there was frequent mention in what can only be loosely described as 'dialogue' of the recent acquisition of Drivers Licencs and c) just in case you still didn't get it, there were frequent interjctions into the conversation of "Roadtrip! Woo!" with attendant arm waving and high fives.
I don't know what happened after that; by this time I had realised the apalling depth to which I had sunk in my depravity and took steps to rectify it.* This is the first time I have seen any of the Olsens work since they were little, alledgedly cute, kids on Full House, or whatever it was.
I had, of course seen magazine articles about them (Which one is anorexic, at least, which one admits she is anorexic?), I had problems trying to work out their popularity then; now I'm completely confused.
They can't act, they can't dance, they can't sing and they've got heads on them like robbers dogs. They look like a Saturday Night Live parody of stereotypical California mallrats, right down to their Gladstone small pigeon necks.
What's to like?
I'm so confused.
Meanwhile, I'm outta here again, cop you later.
*Actually, I'd been snoozing on the couch when the horror started. The steps to rectification consisted of a) getting up and b) leaving the room. Pretty easy, really.
posted by Dirk at 5:30 am
5 Comments:
That sort of trash that passes for entertainment, makes you wonder what it’s doing to the behavioural patterns of young girls.
The line between fantasy and reality is so blurred for some people.
At least you weren’t so tanked you couldn’t move, imagine lying there “help me help me” as your brain starts to rot from within.
Come to think about it, could explain a lot about Americans?
Dirk, is there a reason your posts are in different font? Or is it another one of those Firefox / IE things?
the fonts thing might be because M$ Word puts bad bad shitty bad and generally bad formatting into blogger if you cut and paste. Solution - write in Word so you can save and spellcheck etc, C&P into Notepad (strips out the formatting) and then C&P into blogger.
Dirk, do yourself a favour and move to Typepad. Blogger is for tyre-kickers. You're a true blogger now so reward yourself and get professional. Typepad is a free Basic start-up and has a cheap monthly plan for Immediate and Advanced.
Regarding teenage girls and movies, there is a whole genre called chick flicks. And it's scary ! Don't-go-there ! All 15yo girls go thru a disconcerting stage with older men, for a year of so. Ignore the uncomfortable implictness of their gestures and later enjoy their company as adults, thankful you didn't react. I know I did. Phew... JAFA.
Stumpy,
I've never been so crook that I couldn't crawl away from that shit.
Tony/Stilt,
the fonts thing is because I was playing with my new W:Bloggar toy that FXH told me about. I picked a font with a noice name and gave it a go without previewing it. Not a mistake I'm likely to make again.
JAFA,
maybe one day when I get really irritated I'll give typepad or one of the other platforms a go, but if it costs anything at all, it'd want to do my dishes and make coffee in the morning.
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