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Saturday, December 10, 2011

The Year Somewhat in Review

Every year around this time, publications of all varieties will put out their takes on the most important/exciting/influential/crazy moments of the past year, causing us all to think “Oh yeah, he died!” and “Wait a sec, I turned how old?” HAHA just kidding, only people above age 30 wonder that. Sucks. Anyway, I consider this blog to be one of those varieties of publications because I write it and apparently more than one person in Russia reads it (Здравствуйте, друзья!), so that’s all that matters. On that note, let’s chat about the freak show that was 2011:
  • The media as a whole ran with the notion that we all have secret desires to hook up with our buddies and shelled out No Strings Attached, Friends with Benefits, and the MTV show Friend Zone. The two movies were basically Black Swan if Natalie Portman would’ve just chilled the fuck out and gotten laid like the French guy told her to and if Mila Kunis wasn’t such a bicurious crack whore. Why they thought no one would notice that these films were the exact same story released six months apart is beyond me, but I’d give the W to FWB based off of Justin Timberlake alone (he is my ultimate). Friend Zone fostered the American young adult’s fantasy that their best guy friend of eight years would look past the fact that they tricked him into being their wingman for a fake blind date just so they could confess their love and hope that it was reciprocated because hey, we all need a fairy tale to believe in. I don’t know why all of a sudden we’ve given up on our hopes of meeting our soulmate in a crowded dive bar on a Thursday night, because that foolproof tactic has worked phenomenally well for everyone I know. It’s nice that Hollywood decided to give us hope that our one true love is posting raunchy Text From Last Night’s onto our wall and not paying for our Panera and that all it takes is some courage to realize our fate, but in reality, admitting your feelings to a close pal only creates an awkward situation and a ruined friendship. If the world’s coming to an end in a year, I’d like to send it off with all of my playmates in tow, thankyouverymuch.  
  •  Someone forgot to inform The Situation that “roasting” someone did not mean locking them in a tanning bed for 3 hours so as to achieve that cancerific orange glow. At the Roast of Donald Trump in March, it was clear that Man Grenade (seriously, his face is a modern tragedy) had no semblance of a sense of humor and produced one of the most uncomfortable on-TV moments of the new millennium. There are so many ways that this shebang went wrong: he began by referring to the Trumpster as “mah man.” There is no way the two are on the same playing field, let alone friends. As the crowd started to turn on him, he told them to “Ay ay ooh chill.” That just wasn’t going to be effective no matter what, and at that point anyone without a birth defect would’ve just stepped down and saved face. The be-all-end-all was when Snoop Dogg unwrapped a rillo right in the middle of the entire thing, inviting the rest of the audience to do the same because let’s be honest, no matter how drug-averse you are, we all needed a little weed after that situation debacle.
  • Another state came-to after years in a moral coma and finally legalized gay marriage. In June, New York became the seventh state (with D.C. piggy-backing) to let people do what they should have been able to do forever. Considering it took four years from the initial passed legislation for this to come into fruition, NY and its gays had to feel pretty baller about the whole situation. Don’t worry, it gets even cooler: Kitty Lambert and Cheryle Rudd of Buffalo were wed in Niagra Falls at midnight to become the first couple in the state to celebrate the newly-enacted law, and the Falls were lit up in rainbow just for the occasion. I don’t care what your sexual orientation or your feelings toward gay marriage are; that had to be the prettiest effing wedding in the entire world. I really hope the rest of America wakes up soon!
  • In September, the whole Occupy Wall Street, 99%, “Your degree will mean nothing in six months” thing started. To be perfectly honest, I have no interest in talking about this for several reasons, but mostly because I still don’t understand what it’s all about. That probably makes me a bad American and a disgrace to my generation. If I had a nickel…
  • A teacher at California State University at Sacramento walked out on his class after no one brought snacks. Apparently, psychology professor George Parrott requires that homemade treats are brought to his weekly labs and if the students don’t pull through, they lose that week’s instruction. When he walked out in November, students filed complaints with the university. First of all, those kids are idiots. All they had to do was dump a few dozen packages of Hostess Mini Muffins onto a plate and pretend they Betty Crockered them up that morning and boom, problem solved. Furthermore, who protests class getting cancelled? I totally side with Professor Parrott (sweet name, bro) because I, too, am a fan of the sweets. There are several situations that I would walk out on if there wasn’t food provided, such as a Weight Watchers meeting, or a marriage proposal. Bottom line, those students totally dropped the ball and it’s just another example of a school that no one’s ever heard of producing truly asinine people.   

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