I am part of the 99 percent who are dissatisfied with economic inequality, corporate greed and corruption — namely by the cable company. You see, I don’t get O.W.N. (Oprah’s very own channel) with my current subscription, and because I fall into this 99-percent category of people with no expendable income, I can’t afford to upgrade. While I can live without reruns of Oprah and Gayle gallivanting across the country, what I’m most upset about missing is Rosie O’Donnell’s talk show (five nights a week!).
I suspect I might fall into the 1-percent category of people on the planet who actually like Rosie, but I still have a right to be mad as hell. I want to stage a protest in front of the Insight building … wherever that might be. Or maybe I should think bigger and try to find Oprah herself. I bet she’d have someone on her staff bake us cookies or pot brownies as we protested (tailgated) on her driveway. All we’re asking for is free access to quality television here.
There seems to be a growing disparity among television programming — the more channels we have, the more crap we have to sift through. I’d like to bargain with the cable company — Pilgrim and Indian-style — like we used to do before getting ourselves into this 99/1 debacle. I’m willing to give up 85 percent of my channels in exchange for O.W.N. They can keep all the shopping channels, kids channels, church channels … in fact, it might be easier to list the channels I would like to hold on to.
I’d like to keep the network channels (including The CW for whenever “One Tree Hill” comes back on); MTV (yep, still watch “The Real World,” and Snooki is my BFF); A&E (love me some “Intervention”); Bravo (Kathy Griffin specials); VH1; and maybe just one sports channel, like ESPN.
Dearest Insight and Oprah, I am willing to give away all the other channels — all 640 of them — for just one. Please grant my wish, or else I’ll be out front soon with a keg of Miller Lite, a Port-O-Pot, a grill, Rosie O’Donnell and a sign that reads: “Corporate CEOs spread like hos!” Trust me, you don’t want to mess with us.
Fantasy Football is no wet dream
This is my first year playing Fantasy Football, and like most things involving math, I’m confused and frustrated. My tight end is worthless — in more ways than one. I’ve never paid attention to how many injuries there are on any given Sunday. This football game is serious business.
What I do like about it was coming up with a name — Eat a Vick — and being interested in all the games, not just the team I picked to root for during the season. I’m currently ranked sixth out of 12 teams … not too shabby thanks to Matt Forte and Arian Foster. Best of all, I can now talk to dudes about more than the hotness of Zooey Deschanel and BW3’s Spicy Garlic sauce. And game watching/beer drinking is mandatory research.
Book Tour continued
Thanks to all who made it out last week to my “Bar Belle” book release party. And to whomever brought me that special gift rolled up in a baggie, thanks! The book tour continues tonight at Carmichael’s (2720 Frankfort Ave., 7 p.m.), Dec. 1 at Rich O’s in New Albany (6 p.m.), Dec. 9 at R Place Pub (9603 Whipps Mill Road, 6 p.m.), and Dec. 21 at Regalo (982 Barret Ave., 5 p.m.).
Drunk Texts of the Week
• Snowcones ruled … chaos ensued … my floor is sticky
• My DD just passed out
• U can lead a moose to water, but u cant make it f u up the ass
• I prefer baths at penn state
• Heavy deez nutz!
Send your drunk texts to [email protected]. My blog is at barbelle.leoweekly.com. Word.