Today, the editorial page of The Kansas City Star expresses civic embarrassment, the only remaining emotion we have in our reserved Midwestern hayseed hearts, on behalf of the city for the Funkhouser/Squitiro appearance on Good Morning, America yesterday. And then there were depositions from Squitiro and Funkhouser in which they asserted their victimization at the hands of everyone else on the planet, and also proclaimed their love of comedy. "I find that joking around, humor, opens more doors than it closes and most of the time you win with it," hilarious Squitiro said w/r/t the funny jokes of comedy.
We already know she's good at race-based humor and raunchy Christmas newsletters, and I think it's definitely fair to say that she's about ten times funnier than Frontline's documentary about the Rwanda genocide. All she needs is a regular spot at Stanford's, maybe on Tuesday nights when the crowd is thin, to really hone her chops.
After the jump, the old people attempt to outwit the kids. Click here or here:
While I'm on the subject: WHAT EXACTLY THE FUCK is Gloria Squitiro thinking when she refers to "reserved Midwestern" people who don't understand New York Italians? Or that Midwesterners don't understand that political wives can be "out of the closet"? As a corn-shucking hayseed who wears high-water overalls and hopes his cousin will ask him to the Sadie Hawkins dance, I realize I'm completely alien to a sausage-fingered East Coast sophisticate like Gloria Squitiro, and you'll have to pardon my rural provincialism, but she can absolutely go fuck herself if I hear any more of that shit. Sorry, you guys, I guess you can take me off the rez, but you can't take the rez out of me. The end.
But what will happen to party cove? Missouri Sen. Delbert Scott is trying to KILL FUN, legislatively, the way we kill wolves and polar bears by removing them from Schindler's lists of protected species. The specific way in which Lowry's hatred for children manifests is his proposed legislation to ban beer bongs, Jell-O shots, kegs and beaded Mardi Gras necklaces on Missouri floating streams and waterways. Without Jell-O shots, how are the various taxonomies of amateurs and douches supposed to induce vomiting while surrounded by nature's splendor? WITH PINE CONES? And the elimination of Mardi Gras beads just cuts the legs out from under the whole tits-display economy, obvs., what else are we going to use as a medium of exchange? PINE CONES? Shouldn't Missouri's senate be more concerned with "old people" issues, such as drinking their cans of Ensure and pooping on a regular schedule? NO TOYS FOR THE CHILDREN OF SOMBERTOWN.
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I can picture it now:
Outside- a cold winter's eve, the chill window blowing Technicolor snow flakes.
Inside- snug beside the tepid gas fire-place are Chris and Li'l Princess Blood Feast. Li'l Princess Blood Feast's eyes are riveted to her very first viewing of Santa Claus Comes to Town.
How precious!
But wait! What's this? Mean old Burgermeister Meisterburger says no toys! No toys?
Arf Arf Arf Arf!!!
Why, Li'l Princess Blood Feast nearly tips over her snack of warmed up hobo toes so thoughtfully provided by Chris.
Arf Arf Arf ARF!!!!!!
Oh no, it gets worse? Mean ol� Delbert says no titties?
Arf Arf Arf Arf!!! Let�s snack on Delbert�s balls instead � it�s obvious he�s not using them.
Arf Arf Arf Arf!!!!
The whole thing just screams Christmas.
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