Wednesday, June 09, 2004

This Isn't a Doozy!

I feel that I've overshot my abilities as a writer by proclaiming in one of my last posts that my next post (this one here) would be a doozy. The entry between this and the one where I said the next would be a doozy doesn't count because I wrote it at two in the morning. Anyway, when I look up the definition of doozy on I get this: Something extraordinary or bizarre. Quite frankly, extraordinary is overshooting it, so we're just going to call this a haberdashery. Now, once again, this word shouldn't be used here because a haberdashery is a place where men's clothing is sold, but I think it fits much better than doozy.

Now that I've got that out of the way.

I was discussing reality shows with somebody the other day. I don't remember who it was because everybody in my life that isn't me is pretty inconsequential, but nonetheless, the topic came up. Me and this unimportant entity were discussing those makeover shows and I figured out why they suck: because they're done with people of regular mental capacity.

Now, if there was a retarded makeover show, let's call it The Tard, that would be entertainment. Seeing a grown-up retard dressed to the nines is so uplifting. That's why I always watch the Special Olympic award ceremony. Besides, wouldn't it be crazy for somebody to extreme makeover a screwed-up looking mentally-challenged person or person with Down's Syndrome. I say great because they could let that retard loose in public, like at a mall, and nobody would think anything of it until they started acting like a giant drunk baby. There'd be some pretty retarded girl (I don't mean that she's fairly retarded, I mean that now, because of the makeover, she's physically attractive) at a club or something, guys would start to come up to her to hit on her when she'd yell out, "I don't put things in my ears anymore because it hurts my brain." Actually, on second thought, she'd still pass off as a "normal" functioning human being that one could actually find in a club, so scratch that. Instead, give the newly pretty retarded girl a cattle prod and just let her loose somewhere, like a men's prison. It would be fun for everybody.

I sure am glad retarded people can't read or I'd get my ass kicked supremely (retards are way stronger than normal people per pound).

Interesting thought of the day:
Macaroni and Cheese got its name from a famous Renaissance comedy duo and not from its ingredients as one would assume; that part's just coincidence.

Comment away, tardmongers. Or, if you want, click here and mash your keyboard until the window goes away.

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