You are Not On a Reality TV Show
To all of the fricking macho-studs driving around aimlessly in your 80's muscle cars, I would like to remind that you are not only not on Survivor, if you were on Survivor, you would be voted off the island for your personality disorders caused by steroids and your inability to deal with your now smaller than life testicles. You are also no longer Captain of the football team, so get over it.
I have a similar sentiment for all the wanna-be models and Carrie Prejean look-alikes at the Happy Hour at the bar down the street from my house. You are not even close to being in the running for America's next top super-model. Don't ever forget Tara's words of wisdom: the Christie Brinklie look is out. While you may win your own imaginary contest for best looking girl in the bar, your reward will more than likely be lousy sex with some dude you would never sleep with in the light of day. Perhaps you'd like to try your luck at www.sugardaddy.com instead. I hear lots of girls "luck out" there.
To all the idiotic commenters on You-Tube, I would like to tell you to grow the frick up and get a real life. At least the Reddit commenters (since a majority of them seem to be programmers) have a modicum of intelligence in their comments. (If you don't believe me about the You-Tube comments, check out this here as the brainiacs unite to intelligently discuss Taylor Swift.
And to anyone that has a problem with this perfectly beautiful video of farting aerobics instructors, I'm just sad for you that you can't enjoy a little simple comedy. Maybe dissing it will help you gain entrance into your sorority of choice, but little else.
And, no, just because you can make Spaghetti without using Chef Boyardee, you are more than likely not a candidate for Hell's Kitchen although I would enjoy watching you suffer under the supposed tutelage of Chef Gordon Ramsey.
