New York City 1948


1:52 a.m.-2002-01-20

spit balls at the pissy tunes

When the heaviest dilema on your plate is how you interact with your folks ( can't you hear how loudly I'm screaming inside syndrome ) well I just haven't been about that in sometime. So I can't really relate to that subject in any creative form. Thinking about my miserable adolescence, I didn't turn to art for empathetic comfort in that arena then either. Probably my cringe response to whining. So new offerings from MTV like Staind's "For You", and Blink 182's ill categorized punk divorce ballads, get the channel changer moving, or signal my bladder for a piss break.

Funny, they used to call me and mine the MTV/Sesame Street generation. Seems like they begrudgingly created M2 to appease our complaints for a music television station to show actual music videos. Here you go you crusty products of the eighties, we know without you the original project would never gotten off the ground, but we got a new batch of money heavy children ready to be brainwashed, so we dangle this daughter network in your face, now be off before we taunt you a second time. Wonder if they'll make a Sesame2.

Seems like I still watch MTV for the same reason my dad continued to watch Johnny Carson and now Leno and Letterman. The possibilty that the hip shit that made the show past tense brilliant will rear its entertaining head once again.

MTV is also prone to throw some wuss rock into heavy rotation. Like that American Hi-Fi flaccid penis of a song - he don't know....nintendo, I'm the sensitive little boy who understands your aching teenage female heart, cause I take it in the jaw just like you. Don't even know the artist, but I just saw one for a song that went, "if I could.....way up high...fart fart fart, blow blow blow, suck suck suck, nerny nerny.....". Listening to this drippy dampness could hault puberty altogether, you can feel the pubes recoil back into their folicles.

MTV's wuss and whiner rock show. I thought rock stars were supposed to be embodiments of moisture raising sex pulses and fist clenching rage distributors that make parents tremble in their socks. If I heard my kids listening to half the stuff on MTV I'd be scared alright. Scared I was eventually gonna need to force my son's balls to fully descend with surgery, and electro shock therapy my daughter's cloud of fairy tale frigidity out of her painfully timid loins. Teenagers should teeter on a constant brink of destroying themselves and countless amounts of money from property damage. Christ, there's gotta be some dangerous compensation for growing up in the last superpower.

So to MTV I say - more tequila shots, less wine coolers. This is America goddammit. Our kids should be furiously sucking away on the tit of mania and excitement. Stop pasting them down on soggy nebbish fly paper. And to the kids - don't miss your opportunity to rock out with your cock out.

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