With a billion dollars in sales, the game OVERWATCH needs a watchdog, but players in Congress are too busy playing the game to watch over anything. Trump has yet to fill the dog spot in the White House. Perhaps a bulldog named Spotless, the Poop Free Superdog? Yet there’s a lot to delete, and a bulldog might mess up the keyboard used for Tweets. Whatever dogs are at work in the dog daze of summer, they likely just want to eliminate any kittens before they become fat cats. Meanwhile, 58% of gamers don’t know the name of the Vice President. When the economy goes belly up and real first person shooter skills are needed on the streets, that may change. Stay doomed…
The only tales that reporters chase today are viral videos.
In other McNews, The Psychopath Whisperer is back on Fox. Here’s a partial transcript:
. Welcome to my talk show. Of course you know we don’t say much in public anymore, or even at Starbucks, except to order a Venti Carmel Massi-Ego before getting on our laptops to see if Kim Kar-smash-again or Kim Jong-fun made it into the playoffs at Yahoo Trends. By the way, libraries now look like Starbucks, too! Except for the restrooms, where homeless people gather to bathe and discuss The Walking Dead. With all the TV game shows and Valerian type movies we broadcast into the galaxy, featuring screaming fan/addicts and doomsday deathmatches. It’s no wonder why space aliens want to kill us so badly. Okay, first question. Let’s hear it.
—What is a psychopath, and do they whisper too?
Ha ha. Well, psychopaths don’t generally whisper. They shout orders while pointing weapons. Or they read you the riot act, whatever that is. My job is to disarm them, and then take them to a remote location once used to waterboard taxpayers to cough up more receipts. There we gently instruct them in the Laws of Murphy, which, like the Law of Attraction, states that if anything bad can happen to you it generally will, given time and temperature.
—You said “we.” Who is “we.”
It’s not the A Team, it’s more like the Z Team. Like zombies, only worse, they’ve been lobotomized by watching too much TV, their eyes stuck open with Crazy Glue. In a different location, over where they film B movies with D-List actors and game show hosts. Anyway, what was your question?
—What is a psychopath?
Oh. That’s someone who ruins a company before bailing out of the boardroom with a golden parachute and backpack full of bonus money. Honey. No, wait, that’s a CEO. Psychopath. Any politician who’s first order of business in Washington is getting re-elected. Or any football fan who owns a CRAZY BOY. That’s a special deluxe Lazy Boy model featuring heated and refrigerated coasters, a voice activated mini bar, a retractable cheese fountain, and a defibrillator.
It’s every parrothead’s dream: to leave behind the rat race of the workaday world and start life all over again amidst the cool breezes, sun-drenched colors, and rum-laced drinks of a tropical paradise. It’s the story of Norman Paperman, a New York City press agent who, facing the onset of middle age, runs away to a Caribbean island to reinvent himself as a hotel keeper. (Hilarity and disaster — of a sort peculiar to the tropics — ensue.) It’s the novel in which the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of such acclaimed and bestselling novels as The Caine Mutiny and War and Remembrance draws on his own experience (Wouk and his family lived for seven years on an island in the sun) to tell a story at once brilliantly comic and deeply moving.
Ignorance is bliss, they say. It’s also sexy and trendy. For years rappers have bragged about being illiterate while eating money on camera. Add to this boxers, Hollywood screen writers, NASCAR fans, and now politicians. Our game show host President has even broken precedent, according to those few not currently posting Flat Earth videos on Youboob. As Kanye once put it, “I’m a proud non-reader of books.” Examine that statement. One word sticks out: proud. Yes, there is pride, and not just bliss, here. Add to that money and fame. You too can be a god by burning any books you do come in contact with…go now to whatever reading materials you find, light a match, and bring them to 451 degrees of separation from you. You will be happier, and richer for it! Why waste time and money reading anything, anyway, when there is Spectrum and Directv and NetFlix? (By the way, Flix is a Catalonian town in Spain with a controversial chemical plant containing toxic waste.) Still reading? Stop it! That’s a direct order from Directv. By the way, did you know that not only doesn’t Trump read, but his neighbor in Palm Beach—James Patterson—can’t write. That’s right, folks. He doesn’t write, he “co-writes.” Translation: he employs dozens of little known writers to do the work while he serves High Tea to bookstore owners and the press. In fact, one of the few top writers who actually writes—Stephen King—was target for him in a co-authored title, “The Murder of Stephen King,” cancelled at the last moment due to fear of IT. (Whatever “it” is.) What’s the moral of this story? I don’t know. What’s “moral” mean? It has been expunged from the Pictionary. All we know for sure is that the apes are winning, along with the Chinese. Time to go see The Emoji Movie. No, wait. That’s next week. Okay, how about Deplorable Me III?