It's the holiday season, so whoop-de-do and hickory dock and don't forget to hang up your sock. (They just don't write lyrics like that anymore.) In that spirit, I will do my best to shed my curmudgeonly image for a week. It is, after all, just an act. Deep down I'm really a right jolly, old elf. Very deep.
I love the Kardashian sisters. Their inner beauty never fails to shine through, even though they have cameras shoved in their faces all day long. They never asked for all this unwanted publicity. They are just simple folks thrown into an awkward situation ... not unlike that sweet, adorable Honey Boo Boo and her introverted family.
I am happy for all the voyeurs out there. With the seemingly never-ending glut of reality programming geared toward their demographic, your friendly neighborhood stalkers never have to leave the living room anymore.
They can choose to spy on “real” housewives, duck hunters, fishermen, tattoo artists, the disabled, obese people, bachelors, bachelorettes, psycho brides-to-be, virtually every two-bit, self-proclaimed celebrity on the planet, cheaters, wife-swappers and, worst of all, children in beauty pageants.
Speaking of self-proclaimed celebrities, where is it written that just because you are a billionaire with goofy looking hair you can get away with saying any stupid thing that enters your mind? Doesn't every family have a crazy uncle like that (except for the rich part), who always shows up and starts twittering around the holidays?
Hey, Uncle Don, how about using your massive wealth for a good cause and stop making a fool of yourself. I imagine there are numerous charities out there that would appreciate sharing $5 million, whether the president shows you his high-school grades or not.
I think my cranky persona is safe for another year. Happy holidays, everyone.
Nah, that's way too politically correct. Merry Christmas!