Ah yes, today's update was a clever ruse. I carefully disguised it as an angry article that criticizes everyone on the Internet. But little did you know that my master plan is to make Rosie O'Donnell's blog the last web site in the world. When my work is done Rosie shall reign supreme!
Rosie's blog, written entirely as some kind of strange poem, is a masterpiece. She expertly conveys the feelings one feels when they watch Mission Impossible 3. She makes David Blaine's underwater attention whoring just leap off the page. Rosie is the light of my life. She is the love of my loves.
Everyone could learn a thing or two from Rosie O'Donnell. Her no-nonsense give 'em hell attitude is just the thing we need to get through this terrible Iraq war. She was in A League Of Their Own and single-handed won World War II with her fast-talking no-bullshit taking stance.
Rosie may God bless your soul and make The View more grand than it already is. Starr Jones is a ungodly bitch and may she rot in daytime TV hell. ROSIE IS LIFE. LONG LIVE ROSIE.
I feel kind of bad making fun of that cooking show. My point was that it's just a lame thing kids do but with all this new technology it's easy to put all of that stuff online for everyone to see. The unfortunate result is that when you put something online everyone who looks at it is free to comment on it.
Trust me, I did things that were ten times worse as a kid. I would get my dad's camera, the kind that attaches to a VCR to record and you have to wear the whole goddamn thing around your shoulder, and pretend I was David Letterman and film a "show". My friends would be the guests and I would ask them questions. In and out of "commercial" I would play my saxophone which I was horrible at. My parents bought me the thing thinking I would become a genius for learning a musical insturment. I never learned how to play it well.
And what kid never got their hands on a recorder and pretended they had a radio show? If all of our stupid recordings ever got online we'd kill ourselves. I would prepare "Neighborhood News" which was all the things that happened on my street during the week. My best newscast was when my friend took a crap on the neighbor's lawn and I had the first scoop so to speak. That was some hard-hitting journalism.
So there you go. We all did stupid shit as a kid but now all that stupid shit is getting on the Internet. The end.
Sir Mix-a-Lot's classic follow up to "Baby Got Back" has serious unintended consequences.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
The Daily Dirt serves as a column for all Something Awful frontpage writers to write about, well, whatever they feel like putting into the Daily Dirt!