Dec 3, 2007

High School Mucus Spill

I can rant-on (to myself) about all kinds of crap that gets my huge proboscis out of joint, but of all the issues I rage against, this one is the most horrendously dangerous.

On a recent flight home to Dallas, I was forced to sit in front of 9 televisions that were all playing High School Musical. Now I’ve witnessed some gay shit in my day, but this one takes the 18-layer cake. Even with the sound off I felt the constant urge to vomit. (and it had NOTHING to do with turbulence)

Excruciating. This “Movie” – if you can call it that – was about as entertaining as punching yourself in the face for 2 hours.

What hideous slop. Boppy little clean-teethed megalomaniacs striking what must have been cocaine induced Cats poses, and spasmodically spreading their jazz hands in endless triumph of their type A genetics and perky Up-With-People delusional psychosis.

Is it wrong that I wanted to take a flame-thrower to the whole bubbly rabble?

“Oooh high school is sooo fun, let’s dance around and sing and wear stupid hats and… Awwww my girlfriend is mad at me…. But it’s okay… it was just a misunderstanding… we’re all friends in the end… let’s go swimming and dance and sing again.”

This Hollywood bowel movement makes Footloose: The Musical look like Schindler’s List.

Listen, we can all get a little too caught up in looking cool sometimes, but this is simply the antithesis of the word. The fact that this trough of teen puke was at the top of the charts for anytime at all is proof that some humans need to be clubbed like baby-seals.

Christians worry about Satan roaming the earth bringing on the end of mankind as we know it. BULLSHIT! The real evil stands before us: Zac Efron.

Whoever had anything to do with this de-evolutionary pile of cockcheese should kill themselves… slowly.


WF said...

But, like, Prozac Efron is sooooo DREAMY!

Enjoy the ride kid, it's a short one. Soon it's grand marshall time at the Annual Akron Gopher Festival's Corn Mush Parade.

Elbow P. Murderpants said...

Then face-down in a pool of his own breakfast at the rehab parking lot.
Sniveling pathetically about his rejection from Celebrity Fear Factor.

Oh, the glory...

Go the way of Jack Wild, you maggotty, Aryan ham.