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Back by popular demand is another fresh segment of IBBB’s “Am I Wrong?” Sometimes it’s nice to stray away from Hollywood and really think about some stuff. Yeah, stuff. Deep.
- Know who I don’t want to mess with? The people from the commercial who are pissed off about High Fructose Corn Syrup. Yeesh. They’re at a kids birthday party and the mother asks one of the guests if she wants some of that “purple drink.” When the guest kindly declines because there’s high fructose corn syrup in it, the mother loses her sh*t. She gets all defensive and aggressive and is like, “Everything is fine in moderation and it comes from corn!!!!!” This is how gang wars start. And not “everything in moderation is fine.” You can’t kill in moderation. You shouldn’t have abortions in moderation. You shouldn’t sleep with your boss’ wife in moderation. Plus, it comes from corn? Ohhhh don’t insult me with your random, yet useful, corn knowledge. Cow sh*t comes from cows asses, but that doesn’t mean I’m adding it to my hamburger. Am I wrong?
- So, uh, do the people in charge here in the good old U.S of A want to acknowledge that Toyota is trying to kill us? Anyone? If the gas pedal isn’t sticking to the floor and turning your Corolla into a rocket-ship on its way to the moon, the gas tanks are bursting into flames, or the steering wheel suddenly jerks to the left once you accelerate over 45 mph, or the doors fall off when you open them. The list is endless. Wouldn’t now be a good time to convince people to buy American cars because Toyota is trying to wipe us off the face of the earth one road trip at a time. Am I wrong?
- No I don’t want to buy a rose for the girl I’m with on the street at 4:00 in the morning, drunk. But thanks for asking, random rose lady who is out selling roses at 4:00 in the morning. Seriously are you even breaking even? Is there a 401K plan with this wild and crazy “late night rose selling business” that you’ve started for yourself? Do you sell ice-scrapers in the winter instead of roses? You should. Hell, I should. Am I wrong?
- Oh hey there person that I went to school with for 10 years. Thanks for the Facebook friend request….but, um, you never sent any kind of follow up email or wall post or anything. I haven’t talked to you in 15 years and you haven’t said one word to me. You’re just looking at my pictures and what I write like a peeping Tom in the bushes. You’re probably touching yourself too, perv. Am I wrong?
- Last time I checked I was able to not only turn the water on, but I also have the ability to dry my own hands while in the bathroom of a club or bar. Seriously, I’m sick of having to “tip” the bathroom attendant. I feel like I’m paying this unnecessary “pissing tax.” And I’m not using the dirty brush that you leave out, spraying myself with your 1992 Drakar Noir, or taking the can of AquaNet that is literally rusted directly to sink. It’s almost like having someone come by your cubical at work, shuffle your papers on your desk for 5 seconds, and then hold up a tip jar in front of your face. Not needed. Am I wrong?
Well that concludes another segment of “Am I Wrong.” Am I Wrong was brought to you by “Cotton” and the letter “green.”
