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THE CENSORED VIEWS
What happened? Another article written by
the Editor in a short period after the 1st one? What could this mean? The
end of the world? Oh dear Lord, it is truly the end!
Anyways, what inspired The Editor?
ABBA baby!
Haha!
No, really. He went to Walmart and
bought the CD.
Walmart?
Yeah, Walmart!
Truly the end of the world is coming!
~SINGING~
KNOWING ME, KNOWING YOU!
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January 16th, 2005
THE EDITOR GETS FAT
Welcome to another exciting editorial
column by the Editor. This column was inspired, no, more like directed
by a recent article that has come out of hiding over food items in vending
machines being marked by some sort of identifying device which are “good”
for the American people (if I remember right, it was a dot, such as one
of those price tags people put on items for sales at garage sales. What’s
a garage sale? Again I ask, ARE YOU A COMMUNIST?) Yes my dear reader, these
little dots are going to save me from becoming a fat blob rolling across
the floor, consuming everything in sight. God bless these little dots!!!
These beautiful little red dots, telling me that the veggie tray is better
for me than lets say the big bottle of grease and broken glass!! Yummy!
Of course, there was doubt, somewhere
in my mind; I had a question as to the validity of this. Does the
American Government, The American Vending Machine Association or the ABBA
Fan Club (who the Editor happens to be a card-carrying member of!! God
Bless ABBA!!) really believe that vending machines were the real reason
behind the increased waistline of the American population? I decided
to call up people. What kind of people? Really big people! Not big as in
“We be the Fat Boys here to eat you out of all your grease fried pork products!”
but more like The Govs big! (And maybe we could get a hold of the American
Vending Machine Association president as well!!!!!) Who did we get in the
high ends of the government in Washington DC? That’s right, we got a grumpy
PBX operator and boy did she have words to say! We’ve decided to change
her name in the article to Sally (her real name is Rhonda!! Haha!! Just
kidding! Really! We’re joking! Her real name is Betty! Anyways).
EDITOR: Hello Sally. My name is
Ed and I’m from The Lesbian Lunch, a world-renowned online news organization.
Maybe you have heard of us?
SALLY: BEEP you!
EDITOR: Oh yeah, you’ve heard of
us! Anyways, the world wants to know what you think about marking food
items in vending machines with tags as to whether they’re bad or good for
you.
SALLY: What the BEEP? What
the BEEP is that going to do? The BEEPING vending machine didn’t
hold the gun to your BEEPing head and make you get the HOHOs!
EDITOR: No, but they called out
to me, tempted me, gave me a false sense of security. I thought they were
good for me! The vending machine told me that it loved me. We snuggled.
It was romantic that night. No wait, that was the night we slept
with Antonio Bandera.
SALLY: Oh BEEP you!
EDITOR: No, no, it’s true! I didn’t
know Antonio was bad for me. The government should put a tag on him that
says, don’t drink this man! He was like a drug and he turned into a poison
in my system, but I had to have him, to drink the sweet, sweet poison.
Wait. What were we talking about in the first place?
SALLY: ...
EDITOR: Hello?
After that, it seemed the phone disconnected.
I’m betting that Sally was kidnapped by the powers that be to keep the
true secret. Well, we weren’t going to have none of that. So we seeked
out the one man who would know about things that were bad for us and the
evil vending machines. We called former El Presidente of the United States
of America, that being Mr. Bill Clinton. He was home. We introduced
ourselves. He hadn’t read Lesbian Lunch. He wanted pictures of the lesbians.
We got confused. He wanted to meet us, at some sort of cafe in upper New
York, okay, he said New Jersey but we went anyways. He ordered a
triple cheeseburger. We told him that was bad for his heart. He got pissed
at first and then he cried. We hugged. Suddenly, from the door, came
a shot... no, no, no we aren’t going to turn this article into a gay romance
story. Bill wasn’t home when we called. We had to make something up to
make this piece longer. We’re sorry. We’ll never do this again. Promise.
Not like one of them promises were we promise to kill ourselves in a suicide
pact. That would just be wrong. Can’t we just sleep together? Later on...what?
What do you mean one-night stands are bad now? We have to fill out
a contract? That sounds like commitment or something. Damn.
I really have been out of the loop haven’t I? My ninth ex-wife was correct
wasn’t she? I don’t know the pulse of the reading public!! ~Crying~ No,
no, I’ll be okay. You can leave now. I got ABBA GOLD --- GREATEST HITS
on CD, I’ll listen to that and cry. ~Even more tears~ ~singing~ WINNER
TAKES IT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Okay, I’m better. What were we talking
about? Oh yeah, vending machines and the obesity problem in the USA.
What do I think about that? I think that’s bad. Something should
be done. Like what you might be asking yourself. Well, I’m
here to tell you, the reading audience, what should be done, in an easy
to follow plan.
(1) The fat f*ckers(my publisher said
I needed to curb my cursing. So, I’m censoring myself!! Ain’t that sweet?
It’s not? ~pout~) such as yours truly should eat the dumb asses who decided
that marking the food in vending machines was a good idea. Come on!
I’m fat due to inability to control my hand to mouth reflect, aka shoveling
food into my mouth. I’m not going to stop to read the dots. I may ingest
them. I could choke on them little tags and die!
(2) Congress should pay me money to NOT
to write columns. How is this going to help curb the fat problem? I don’t
have a good idea; I just want money for not working!!!
(3) I really don’t have any more points
than the first one. I’m just writing now to fill space. I’ll stop.
And with that, I say, good night my fellow,
whatever the hell we are. Blobs?
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