My dog is stupid today. For some reason, it keeps picking up that piece of plastic-covered buttons, and the rest on my knees. However, I told you so "I do not watch TV, the dog." Nothing so, it continues to stir stupidly tail while offering me the damn remote without delicacy, offering control over the television was invented to help stupefy the idiots and make them more skeptical misanthropes. I turn then nonchalantly position without realizing that I open a door interdimensional directly overlooking the underworld.
I do not know what you think of television, but I personally see as an evil invention. At first, naive, one sees only advantages: information, entertainment, all close at hand ... No, not so much the machine error that individuals who hide behind. Posting it on their faces a Machiavellian grin before leaving us bec so coldly, machinists anti-intelligence pushed the buttons that adorn their consoles to send us in the eyes of what lead to the development of a brain tumor in a newborn.
phrases most idiotic and surreal world are linked together without understanding in dialogues that inspire insipid as the killing of those who utter them, their impresarios, their writers, their hamsters and anything that could transmit HIV from near and far, interspersed advertisements.
Panzani ridiculous and advertising are the perfect example of what makes television the plight of all humans who still have eyes and a half functional brain. Fortunately, it is limited to television. Imagine if when you read a book as wonderful as "Twilight," "Little Brown Bear" or "Harry Potter", between each chapter, the narrator offered you a page of advertising?
"The house of our charming family stereotyped alleged but poorly dubbed French and more like a Swede from a career in the hexagon, has walls flash red and yellow neon. The furniture is all colors, giving us all the brightness of a room whose purpose is to silence the schizophrenic blinding them to limit their hallucinations. The kitchen is equipped, tidy, you feel like a hospital for the blind, one is happy. Through the window we see a beautiful landscaped garden, as our dear Mr. gardening seriously, to keep all her little household.
A charming housewife-masked to less than 50 years on anti-depressants (since she realized that leaving his house to be painted by an army of myopathic color blindness was not a good idea), no husband (one working while she's cleaning, proof of modernism in this charming French family) raising two lovely grandchildren and well groomed blond, smiling, eating properly, clothed respectively the t-shirt with stripes all the charming little guys are cute little dress and pink all the girls are between the ages of the same age, sings while preparing pasta Shelley PANZANI that cook very quickly if you put the Love in the recipe, and you talk about childhood, youth and recklessness.
It displays a smile not hiding not the magic of her medications she now uses in massive doses, and also allowing us to see his dentist pulls no punches on scaling, and adds:''
PANZANI ... TOO!''
The children, delighted to eat a dish as luxurious, their little lips already covered with foam, their language and their stomachs bloated starvation shouting accompanying their dear mother in this song tribal tribute to pulp. It is apparently customary among these strange people to sing when you eat pasta, so the thing out of the ordinary. Do not we say that the Italian is a language of the singing? Proof: singing in front of pasta. Resuming all together:''
PANZANI ... TOO!'''
Even Barbie is it too pink ...
What joy it is for us readers to have to endure such nonsense. The publishers are not yet affected by psychological illness suggesting that basic human if advertising works on weak minds on television, it is equally effective in magazines, DVDs, cinemas film, video games, websites, newspapers, walls, rear bumpers ... Soon we will stick patches on the front to buy an apple at -10%, and we will be sure that if people buy apples is because of this wonderful stroke of genius.
When I want to see is to see a hideous eye on a restless funk. Secret Story. Yes, Secret Story, reality television, the evil person, pain, death, the ultimate insult. But why am I the devil on TF1!?
Warning: Cyclops wicked
To have had the morbid curiosity to take a look - haha - at Secret Story, I must confess that it would have been difficult to believe that this was so pitiful that I had been supposed. I wanted to find observing young horny surrounded pouffettes heat in a loft alternating every color imaginable kitsch might have any interest. But this was not the case.
Before me, stories of heart and a childish and pathetic behavior remind me while reality TV is made by people idiots, idiots, idiots with it. A love triangle of human stupidity, stupid or morons eat under the amused gaze of fools.
Consider an example: the intersection of metalhead / goth faux-called "vampire". Everyone knows that vampires are involved in issues of reality TV. Incidentally, I'm waiting to see what type of false-rebel chick die slowly crazy from not being able to feed on blood before the cameras.
Maybe we could get him a goat or a pig? No? He is a vegetarian, perhaps? I think has no choice in the world of the undead, in theory: they drink the blood if we peg out. In addition, I saw him eat anything else. Since when do vampires can feed on human food? No, but because in this case it would long as they live among us by eating hamburgers like any good capitalist.
fashion of "I'm a vampire," probably the most ridiculous methods for false-marginal-in-lack-of-personality-who-is-their-own. Who will honestly believe that this hair came out of his coffin to go participate in Secret Story?
was also a hermaphrodite born emo super class. When you are naturally born with both sexes, you are sure to dress in emo well say that like all others, you're bi. No, you do not necessarily own personality, you stay emo, but born with both sexes. With a graphical interface and behavior of such little frustrated ill at ease, everyone makes fun of him / her, poor little (e). However, he adopted a technique of defense of the most personal: "I sulk in my bed in pink neon yellow bathrobe. Why not.
The secret should be "I was resambl
ts ley kikou aje 2 min lol" ...
I will not even football broadcast on all strings that night dangerously in the evenings for those who do not care. The screen goes black, do not abuse the poor things.
I throw the remote into the TV, the beast breaks out on the ground, tramples hard. Ah! But if I suddenly realize that there was a utility to this machine that I unfortunately just completed under the weight of my boots. With what shall I take my DVDs and other media more or less legal now?
Oh no, it's good, I have a computer.
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