besot [bi-sot] v. 1. to intoxicate or stupefy with drink 2. to make stupid or foolish: a mind besotted with fear and superstition 3. to infatuate; obsess: He is besotted by her youth and beauty
Thomas Paine (1737), William McKinley (1843), Anton Chekhov (1860), W. C. Fields (1880), R. Norris Williams (1891), John Forsythe (1918), Tom Selleck (1945), Marc Singer (1948), Ann Jillian (1950), Tommy Ramone (1952), Oprah Winfrey (1954), Greg Louganis (1960), Nicholas Turturro (1962), Edward Burns (1968), Heather Graham (1970), Sara Gilbert (1975), Jonny Lang (1981), Adam Lambert (1982)
Just a message to all of you who subject the rest of us to your uniquely arid and decidedly lopsided views on what’s wrong with this country.
Relocate. Move to a place where, I don’t know, maybe they like self-serving, pseudo-intellectual dipshits who quote The Founding Fathers and think Rush Limbaugh is someone special. The Founders were just greedy fucks who died a couple of centuries back and Limbaugh, as an pundit, inhabits a lower rung on the ladder of purport than Sesame Street‘s resident lovable goofball Elmo. In truth, all the crap you cite is about as irrelevant as quoting The Bible.
You have daily musings about growing up in a simpler time. As likely as not, one, if not both, of your parents were a doctor, lawyer or something similarly lucrative. And now you’re out in the world, and things just aren’t coming so easy, are they? Well, suck it up.
And quit griping. Some advice? You’re never going to get laid on a consistent basis because, let’s face it, most women don’t really like whiny white boys who nightly inhabit some bar stool and lament about how bad they’ve got it. You’re embarrassing white guys everywhere. It’s sadder than the ending of Pay It Forward. So please stop.
You’re fatuous and not concerned in helping anyone save the dope you see every morning in the bathroom mirror. And, I may be going out on a limb here, but presumably you’re not stoked when looking that person in the eye everyday before work.
Shut the fuck up and enjoy everything your privileged lifestyle affords you. You know, lame-ass pub crawls and thematic happy hours and, oh yeah, a life 99.9% of Earth’s occupants would literally kill for.
Politics is the art of preventing people from taking part in affairs which properly concern them. ↔ Paul Valery
Paddy Casey released “Whatever Gets You True” in 1999. But it’s one of those songs that could easily been released yesterday. I’m saying it’s timeless. Do I have to explain everything? Read between the lines for crying out loud.
→ This past Wednesday night, J. D. Salinger, author of the classic novel The Catcher in the Rye, passed away at the age of 91. I understand it’s sad when anyone dies but he lived a full life and will be remembered for as long as people read books. Pretty great legacy.
→ After much hullabaloo, President Obama has ordered the U.S. Justice Department to find another city for the trial of Khalid Shaikh Mohammed, one of the alleged orchestrators behind the 9-11 attacks. It was supposed to take place in Manhattan.
→ Once again, I find The Onion‘s sports coverage the most honest and truthful out there. This piece about NFL commentators is pretty much dead-on.