9/15/2008, 11:32 pm
Sometimes I wonder if America is stupid. Sometimes I think I'm right.
I had an epiphany this afternoon as I was sitting at my coffee table. A bowl of soggy and stale Cheerios awaited me under a stack of old newspapers as I sat in soiled week's old underwear.
But my epiphany. I had one. I really did.
This epiphany came to me unlike any other before. Yes, for some reason it was almost like whoa and a little like wow. Finally it suddenly became all so clear to me: I'm better than America.
I deserve a column in the New York Times.
Sometimes I wonder if America is stupid. Sometimes I think I'm right. I also think I'm smarter than most Americans -- well, actually, all Americans.
I deserve a column in the New York Times.
I am an academic, a musician, and a lover of the arts. I'm a thrice divorcee and am thinking about taking up clog dancing. Did I mention I'm smarter than most Americans? Well, actually, all Americans.
What is qualified anyways? Sure, I might rabble on endlessly only to see my own awkward prose dabbled and splashed across my Microsoft Word Processor. What is a word processor anyways? I bet some idiot in a red state wouldn't know what a word processor is. I'm smarter then them. Well, actually, I'm smarter than all Americans.
I deserve a column in the New York Times.
I once shared a cab with Frank Rich. He smells funny -- but then so do I as I sit here in my pink terrycloth robe and soiled underpants. I actually smell like soured milk. No, wait, there happens to be a carton of soured milk here under these old, moldy newspapers.
Maureen Dowd is old and moldy. I bet she has “man troubles“. Or maybe Maureen is a lesbian? Lindsay Lohan is a lesbian. But then again Lindsay Lohan is somewhat attractive. I can't see another woman wanting Maureen Dowd. I can't see a man wanting Maureen Dowd.
It must be hard to be unwanted. It must be hard to be Maureen Dowd.
And Bob Herbert? A black Frankenstein. He scares me. His ghoulish visage must scare both Frank Rich and Maureen Dowd -- although I think Maureen might like herself a piece of that. She is lonely and unwanted, mind you. It must be a little bit harder to be Maureen Dowd then it is to be Bob Herbert.
Wow. I'm brilliant. I have the observational skills that one would need to have a column in the New York Times.
Then again, I sometimes think America is stupid. Sometimes I think I'm right. I also think I'm smarter than most Americans -- well, actually, all Americans.
Yes, I am smarter. I think I'm right. It is always hard being the smartest liberal in the room -- even harder than being Bob Herbert, but not as hard as being Maureen Dowd. She is so lonely.
My opinion is priceless.
I am truly a cultural elite.
I deserve a column in the New York Times.
I had an epiphany this afternoon as I was sitting at my coffee table. A bowl of soggy and stale Cheerios awaited me under a stack of old newspapers as I sat in soiled week's old underwear.
But my epiphany. I had one. I really did.
This epiphany came to me unlike any other before. Yes, for some reason it was almost like whoa and a little like wow. Finally it suddenly became all so clear to me: I'm better than America.
I deserve a column in the New York Times.
Sometimes I wonder if America is stupid. Sometimes I think I'm right. I also think I'm smarter than most Americans -- well, actually, all Americans.
I deserve a column in the New York Times.
I am an academic, a musician, and a lover of the arts. I'm a thrice divorcee and am thinking about taking up clog dancing. Did I mention I'm smarter than most Americans? Well, actually, all Americans.
What is qualified anyways? Sure, I might rabble on endlessly only to see my own awkward prose dabbled and splashed across my Microsoft Word Processor. What is a word processor anyways? I bet some idiot in a red state wouldn't know what a word processor is. I'm smarter then them. Well, actually, I'm smarter than all Americans.
I deserve a column in the New York Times.
I once shared a cab with Frank Rich. He smells funny -- but then so do I as I sit here in my pink terrycloth robe and soiled underpants. I actually smell like soured milk. No, wait, there happens to be a carton of soured milk here under these old, moldy newspapers.
Maureen Dowd is old and moldy. I bet she has “man troubles“. Or maybe Maureen is a lesbian? Lindsay Lohan is a lesbian. But then again Lindsay Lohan is somewhat attractive. I can't see another woman wanting Maureen Dowd. I can't see a man wanting Maureen Dowd.
It must be hard to be unwanted. It must be hard to be Maureen Dowd.
And Bob Herbert? A black Frankenstein. He scares me. His ghoulish visage must scare both Frank Rich and Maureen Dowd -- although I think Maureen might like herself a piece of that. She is lonely and unwanted, mind you. It must be a little bit harder to be Maureen Dowd then it is to be Bob Herbert.
Wow. I'm brilliant. I have the observational skills that one would need to have a column in the New York Times.
Then again, I sometimes think America is stupid. Sometimes I think I'm right. I also think I'm smarter than most Americans -- well, actually, all Americans.
Yes, I am smarter. I think I'm right. It is always hard being the smartest liberal in the room -- even harder than being Bob Herbert, but not as hard as being Maureen Dowd. She is so lonely.
My opinion is priceless.
I am truly a cultural elite.
I deserve a column in the New York Times.
