I don't hate the numbing dance rhythm, the disrespectful treatment of a good Supertramp song, or the way your massive veneers make you lisp like Gary Busey.
You guys just look like a bunch of douche bags. And that's enough for me.
Friday, April 03, 2009
Too late did Pooh Bear realise that he had not properly set the privacy settings on his Facebook account. Being a bear of little brain, he didn't fully take into account the effect these pictures, taken on his recent trip to New Orleans, would have on his career, both on-screen and off.
Sadly, the Disney Company, while fully in favour of extending benefits to employees with "alternative lifestyles", and more than willing to allow same sex couples to partake in fairy tale weddings at the parks, had not moved beyond the narrow mindset that drove Tommy Kirk to ruin. In Pooh's simple-minded way, he thought, "Well, if the Jonas Brothers can give a crowd of pre-teens a lesson in bukkake, and Vanessa Hudgens can pose nude, and Miley Cyrus can tickle the fancy of every Nabokov fan in the world, then what trouble could it cause if I march, in full fur, with some fruity tea-bags on my face?".
Willy nilly silly old bear. I leave you with a quote from the A.A. Milne classic:
“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh," he whispered.
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you."”
How else would you ever get to watch a documentary on the Iraqi heavy metal band Acrassicauda? These guys lived the mythical rock 'n roll life -- they had no money, were sleeping on borrowed floors, and playing borrowed instruments. As the story goes, what do you do when all you have left is your band, and your music?