R&R’s got some New Year’s Resolutions …

31 12 2009

… but they aren’t for me. Oh no, I like myself just the way I am. Sedated by society through sports,  video games, movies, graphic novels, the interwebs (ZOMG LOL that video of that person getting violently injured is hilar! ROFLcopter!), an occasional book or two and of course, the awful, soul-sucking grind of a 9-5. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought up resolutions for the rest of you people, so strap up, strap on and strap in, because it’s time to take a good look in the mirror and start this new decade off the right way.

  • Urban Runners: Stop urban running. You’re awful. It’s not the running that makes you awful, it’s how you choose to run, it’s the setting in which you run. You find the busiest street in one of the largest cities in the world, and decide this is going to be your cross-country route.

    This is Chicago, one of the few beacons of civilization that actually saved park space along an entire side of the God-damn city. There amount of running room next to the lake would make Steve Prefontaine come.

    Yet there you are, running down Diversey during rush hour. And there you are again, running through the Loop, or right though the commercial zones of Old Town. Trust me, you might have that slender, trim, athletic body that your shirt might or might not be covering — but your roast beef of a face isn’t helping.

    If you really can’t take the 10 minutes to travel east for your run, then do it on a side street. There are countless avenues and boulevards where I don’t have to see you, and you don’t have to see me. Because you better believe that one of these days, after you weave through foot traffic that makes you’re run look more like interpretive dancing, I’m going to  trip you on purpose.

  • Rappers: Give your guns to you gun man. You’ve got a weed man. You’ve got a jewelry man. Why must you neglect your gun man? Yet time and time and time and time again you have gone to jail for harmless gun charges. I know you have security guards, aren’t they pretty much your gun man anyway?

    I’m not against a life of crime, or rapping about crime neither. I watched The Wire, which makes me an expert on urban plight and such, I get it. But how many rappers are going to go to jail of gun charges before we learn our lesson? It’s a weak ass charge, and you’re all paying a dumb price. At least Shyne shot somebody.

  • Kanye West and Justin Timberlake: Get in the fucking booth already. How is it that two of the greatest pop performers of the past decade haven’t made a song together? Is there any doubt in any mind that a song featuring these two people would DOMINATE THE WORLD?Kanye knows it too, look what he said two years ago to XXL:
    “My biggest inspiration and biggest competition is Justin Timberlake. He’s the only other person that gets an across-the-board response and respect level — black radio, white radio.”

    Holy shit make a song already.

    Also, Kanye, if you could just be cool, that would help to. You’re like a good friend who you like to party with, but occasionally you get too drunk and end up making the party worse, which forces the rest of your friends to rationalize your behavior to the people who just witnessed you being a total dick. “Yeah, he’s usually not like this, usually he’s really funny, and a pretty cool guy … Yeah, I’m sorry he puked on your head, that sucks.”

  • Food Industry: End the use of ketchup packets. It’s stupid, it’s pointless, and it bothers the shit out of me. Every other condiment at most fast food places comes in a tube: Barbecue sauce, ranch dressing, honey mustard, yet when I get fries, I have to surgically open 62 ketchup packets to get an adequate amount to start dipping. GET SOME KETCHUP IN SOME TUBS. We’re not putting a man on Mars here, it’s a reasonable request. Get moving. I need my fries slathered in ketchup!
  • Athletes: Stop getting married. I’m not trying to shit on you. Trust. All I’m saying is that reading to news about your infidelities is boring, pointless and one of the reasons that America is starting to look like one huge high school. I don’t care who or what you stick your penis into, I don’t care how if you have sex with men, women, dogs, cats, chickens or Navi’is. And really, neither does the rest of America.Unless you’re married.

    Then, somehow, it counts as news, and I am force fed intimate details into your personal life. Let’s make sure we are clear — I don’t care about your personal life. I care if you can hit that fastball, tickle the twine or smash running backs’ bones. I don’t care if you are a nice person or a total dick. I don’t care what kind of car you drive. I don’t care if you’re a Democrat or a Whig. Just put on your jersey and play ball, or puck, or whatever.

    Since I know there’s no way you young, fit, virile men are going to stop fucking, follow Derek Jeter’s lead and stop getting married. Nobody cares if you cheat on your girlfriend, and life will be better for that reason alone. Except for the girlfriend, she might be pissed.

  • Twitter: Die. There aren’t 148 characters in the world that can sufficiently express how much I hate you. If you were a person, I would fantasize about you being hit by a bus. I would pray to God every night that the #76 would crush every organ in your body.

Here’s to you 2010, let’s hope you learned the lessons of your younger brother.

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5 02 2010
R&R: SUCK ON THAT MISS CLEO! « Rhyme&Reason

[…] me to quote myself. On December 31st, in the year of Our Lord 2009, I wrote the following when discussing society’s New Year’s Resolutions: Food Industry: End the use of ketchup packets. It’s stupid, it’s pointless, and it bothers […]

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