The Deli's Pick

Currently Listening To: Damnit, I can't think of anything clever to say. Fudge it.

Not half bad. Hell, not even a quarter bad. If I had to say something, I'd say somewhere between one-eighth and one-sixteenth bad. So that would be, what, three-thirty-seconds bad? ONE WORD*: I HAVE TOO MUCH TIME ON MY HANDS. And then I was all, "Ahh, look at this time on my hands! Get it off, get it off!" and then I washed my hands, but they didn't feel any different, so I washed them some more and developed a compulsive-hand-washing-complex. It took three years of therapy to rid me of this complex, but the scars still live on...

And every once in a while, those scars open up, and blood gets all over my hands. And then I go and wash my hands, but some of the blood has already temporarily stained my skin, and that blood doesn't come off as easily, and I must wash some more. Then I realize that I have a compulsive handwashing complex, and I likely need to get psychiatric help so this "habit" doesn't take over my life.

*It has recently come to my attention that the phrase "ONE WORD" is potentially misleading seeing as the following sentence is quite possibly more than one word. I, along with all of the editors, writers and publicists of Some Whiny Kid would like to apologize for any potential confusion this may have caused.
STOP HERE AND COME BACK LATER TO READ ON
So I watched what is possibly the worst T.V. show ever last night. The Swede told me about it, and if the Swede could be on this show, it's bound to be good. Because all of the shows he wants to be on are like the highest quality reality shows out there. But not Brat Camp. Brat Camp sucked. First of all, it wasn't a camp. I figured it would be like, Camp Hell, with cabins and a lake and a dining hall and a craft shed and all of this other camp-type stuff, but no, the sleep in a teepee. And the only other covered shelter-type thing was a tarp propped up by some poles. And they move "camps" alot. The kids weren't really bad kids, either, they were just really whiny/bitchy and their parents were week. FYI, lady, if your kid could beat you up, and is threatening to do so, child abuse isn't called child abuse any more. It's called beating the shit out a thnug who is threatening you to get his way because you've been letting him have his way all his life and so he's used to it. He's not angry at you because he never had a father figure, he's just doing what you've let him do for the past sixteen years, but now the "I won't love you anymore" act isn't quite as effective, so he breaks his fist out. BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF HIM WITH A BASEBALL BAT. Pretend he's some thug on the street who wants your purse, because he practically is. He wants money, or something money can get, and he could beat you up. The only difference is he lives in your house. GET SOME BALLS YOU OLD HAG. The producers of the show were obviously heavily biased against the "brats", judging by the name of the show and the fact the one of the kids is identified as "angry punk". The "guides" are hippies. Thy have names like "Fire Eagle", "Wind Mother" and "Humps Trees in his spare time, which is basically when he isn't attending PETA demonstartions or making hemp bracelets so he can smoke them when he makes another". What a crappy show. Almost as crappy as that one my sister was watching the other day. It was on Nickelodeon, and it was called "Zoey 101". It's about this girl named Zoey whose parents were tired of, say, parenting her so they sent her to a preppy boarding school on the California coast. At this school, the kids just kind of hang out. No supervision, no learning, no rules what so ever. They just go around re-enacting plots from other high school shows, but with less charm, wit and other words critics like to throw around a lot.
So let's review: Mind of Mencia=good, Brat Camp/Being Bobby Brown/Zoey 101=bad(parents, concept, scripts). Done.