You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.™
Morning news.
Morning news is about everything but news.
Morning news is about eye candy and fluff and so much nonsense that it makes me mute the TV more times than not.
If it’s not the Kardashian Sisters selling me clothes it’s about the next iron chef cooking me pumpkin flavored pumpkins.
If it’s not a hard hitting expose with the lead actress on Charlie’s Angels, it’s flat out commercialism. Hey Sam Champion is that a pineapple in your pocket or are you just happy to be on TV?
The guy works for Disney and amazingly he is on the Oahu selling me a Disney Owned vacation get-a-way on Oahu.
Can you say conflict of interest? At ABC news it’s about selling your soul to the devil to get another Central Park concert with
Lady Ga Ga.
As bad as this is, there’s something even more insidious about what FOX news Saturday produces.
I’m watching two quasi handsome dudes with Brooks Brothers suits talking about something and nothing and both at the same time. It’s a free for all, like pouring hot coffee on my crotch and then reciting the Pledge of Allegiance backwards.
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are book ending a ding bat news princess in a bright pink dress.
She kind of cute, but she is kind of rough looking. Dark roots growing through the blond locks like so much kudzu on her scalp.
She is a train wreck of good looks surrounded by diarrhea mouthed mongrels.
The men are chiseled and dapper. The blond in the middle is curvaceous and she keeps her well oiled gams prominently crossed and on display.The news on this Saturday morning is WHERE will the NASA satellite fall.
The two men are talking like canaries high on fumes and the dumb blond speaks up.
“If you are watching us right now, then you survived the satellite falling to Earth”
Nice segue Cinderella.
Then the bad dye job in the hot pink dress begins regaling me with a story about her child who asked mommy about the falling satellite.
“Mommy, is that satellite going to hit our house?”
“I don’t know,” the anchor woman says with bubble gum flavor stupid exiting her pie hole.
“We just don’t know,” she says, her eyes rolling like pin wheels. “We just don’t know. Nobody knows.”
She sounds like the ring master in a circus of half wits.
“We just know.”
Really News Lady? That’s the best you have.
You could have explained to your baby doll that we don’t know where it is going to fall, but there is a tremendously good chance it is not going to fall on you baby.
While some experts say there is a 1 in 3200 chance a human will be hit, there are a lot of freaking humans in this massive dispersal zone. The chance of space junk falling on anyone you know is probably about the same as your head catching on fire in the shower.
While one of these Kens and Barbie dolls speak, the others stare off camera, blankly, mouths slightly agape.
This is the way Bambi looked while searching for his mother in that forest fire. It’s the way Hanks stared at Wilson the volley ball as it floated away on an ocean current.
This morning show is disappointing. All the morning shows are disappointing. I want news with a little more news and a little less frat house cool.
I don’t care about your facebook friend or your twitter thought of the morning. I don’t want a skype report with a consumer reporter wearing a Lycra suit in her kitchen.
If you are going to broadcast it, then show me something. Invest in the product and dedicate yourself to making me a more savvy consumer of life after watching your product.
Take the bimbo in the pink dress and pink slip her ass. Take Mr. Milli and Mr. Vanilli and give them their walking papers too.
And that is crazy.