Wassup ... I Ain't Lyin'

Which of these is more annoying?



Sure, babies are crying, eating, bleating, whining, shit machines--entirely too small and stupid to be put to any practical use--but at least they have the potential to grow up and contribute to the emotional, physical, psychical, economic and linguistic landscape of whatever society they are reared in. Even this screaming little baby here. But Mark Rothko paintings? The painting above, titled Two German Shepherds Tossing Salad While Dreaming of Spearing Agamemnon on Mount Adelphia (1950) ... actually, it's just called No. 20 ... seems to have one sole purpose: to match my couch (cruel irony: I don't have a couch; but I do have a thoroughly abused tan futon!). "But Holly, he's so revolutionary, so groundbreaking. He made art self-reflexive; aware of its state of pure decoration. He moved away from representation and relied solely on the beautiful colors YHWH put on this beautiful green Earth." WRONG. He's part of the reason why painting in the post-Jackson Pollock era is so asinine. It inspires nothing except for greedy art gallery owners and the suckers who buy these glamourized pieces of wallpaper to move furniture around the room in which they intend to hang it. Babies also inspire the rearranging of furniture, and require continual upkeep. Honestly, I don't know which is more annoying.

By the way, it should be noted that Holly Go-Heavily does not have children. Holly Go-Heavily does not have any Mark Rothko paintings. If Holly Go-Heavily did, he would sell them and buy a couch (and some leather pants).

Holla atcha boy, Turtledaub. I know you're reading this. How come you don't call me anymore? And that's not just a Prince reference (b-side to "1999" [1982]). Is it because I've got Tim Dog's voice on my voice mail? & Why you hatin' on Screamin' Jay? Is it because he had 60 babies?

Cat, I know nothing about this stinkin' America's Top Model's show. I'm too cool for TV, unless you count the 10 hours a day I watch the TV Guide Channel (I wish I had a Rivers I could sail away on!) or playing on my oldskool NES (today, Paperboy and Blades of Steel; tomorrow, Metroid). I'd vote for Naima, because her name reminds me of the beautiful John Coltrane ballad. Also, I don't trust a supermodel named after a water-filter (Brita). You know, Cat, I don't think I really considered you a friend until you sent me an invitation to join Friendster. That cemented our friendship. But it was your invitation from MySpace that got me to thinking you might just want to have a one-night-stand with me.