Hellloooooooo mummies possums!
Happy fucking Friday! The weeks end is finally here, so you can unstuff your bras, let your balls hang out and fart violently as you pass your bosses doorway. The other animals of the farm will cheer you on as you strut down the hallway, like the top cock you are. Yes comrade! Poke out your chest, snarl at your enemy and lead the revolution! Anything is possible for you, leader O' great leader of rebellions.
"I have little more to say, I merely repeat, remember always your duty of enmity towards Man and all his ways. Whatever goes upon two legs is an enemy. Whatever goes upon four legs, or has wings, is a friend. And remember also that in fighting against Man, we must not come to resemble him. Even when you have conquered him, do no adopt his vices."
If you are like me, and received a sub par primary school education--you may not be familiar with the novella Animal Farm written by George Orwell. Shit the only thing I really read while growing up was
Word Up! Magazines, Ramona Quimby adventures, and Sweet Valley High books. But trust me when I say, Georgie Orwell is the kind of dude you would like to share a joint with. Pause---don't let my quasi eggheadedness turn you off. Having a literary hero doesn't necessarily make you the sharpest tack in the tool box--but for me, having words within reach, gets my pistons pumping. It's the thing that reminds me that my feelings are quite valid, and I am not the first angry fucker in history to yell "Hey, the emperor is naked! That mothfucka ain't wearin' no clothes! Hey! Hey! EM-POOR-ROR! Yes, you fucker! Cover your charlie browns! Nobody wants to see that shriveled tallywacker! The first lady actually sucks that thing? EEwwwwwwwwww!"
Living in a world with 24hour news cycles, social media addiction, doom & gloom thinking, it's easy to give up and give in. I myself grow weary at hearing those oompa loompa goombas on the Jersey Shore get paid upwards of $50,000 per episode. Fifty thou to show their diseased twats and jizz spiked hair on camera. And it doesn't stop there--Dane Cook that no talentless ass jester is going to Broadway. Yeah mighty fuck face will be in Neil LaBute's Fat Pig, an acclaimed play that has enjoyed successful runs Off-Broadway and on the regional theatre circuit. Between Youtube sensations, reality TV, and Dane Cook it all leaves me wondering "Who's dick to you have to bump, to get a show around here?"
Now, there are some victors in the game. I have friends and comrades that are having original plays produced, testing for pilots, and booking series regular roles. I know educators that are receiving much needed equipment for the classroom, and somewhere brave woman is passing a child through her vagina. The pendulum swings both ways, and that's the beauty of life, idn't it?
Alas my little duckies, I've read enough of Aesops fables, Orwellean satires, and listened to enough Jamiroquai records to know that in the end, what matters is that you stay true to yourself. American networks may not want to pay top dollar to see my freckled ass, but someone will. Until then, I just have to keep chopping the wood, never minding the pile. Keep fighting darling. I'm rooting for you. Yes, you.
Though we die before it break;
Cows and horses, geese and turkeys,
All must toil for freedom's sake.
ciao for now,