It's not E-Bay, The World of Spam, Craig's List or the Porn sites my wife has to worry about, It's Farmville !!!! Ask me about my sheep, should not be a common phrase in your marriage, unless of course your a sheep farmer! At least thats what my wife, the self proclaimed Farmville widow has told me.
Just when you thought you had enough to do in your life, Facebook's Farmville grabs you, and the next thing you know your a clod stompin, dirt diggin, goat milkin addict, screaming YEE-Haw at your computer screen!
So heres the cliff notes version of the Farmville World! Farmville is a game application for one of the post popular (for now) internet socializing sites, Facebook. Armed with your mighty hoe and a handful of seeds, you toil and work your mouse, clicking fingers to the bone, building your psudo farm. You harvest and grow a multitude of crops, then comes the livestock , cows,ducks,chickens,horses and sheep among others(except those evil penquins).
I myself have amassed quite the menargery of bovine, equestrian delights, as well as my Farmville friends (or enimies, depending on how you look at it) Thinking I need yet even more sheep (insert sick joke here)I have been farming just about a week now, and I can't stop!
It used to be I would come home, throw Hello at the wife, check the regular mail, the email, the newsfeeds, Myspace and Facebookupdates to see whats been going on in the world at large, as well as whats new in my little chunk of the world. But now, I get home and make the mad dash to my computer, ignoring wife, mail, email and all other "real" matters that require my attention, just so I can harvest my imaginary crops from my imaginary farm before they turn to (yup, you guessed it) imaginary dust from neglect(due to the fact that I have no access to Farmville at work (corporate bastards!) I then plant, milk cows and goats, collect fur and feathers from a virtual cornicopia of psudo animals, including some cats that give yams(don't ask) and pigs that give truffles. I sell them at market and then do it all over again.
Its slow, its simple and yet Facebook dweebs, dorks and geeks are in a Farmville trance. It has gotten so bad, that its what I think about at work all day, what am I going to plant and how long will it take to grow. In between crops and livestock you can earn cash and experience points by decorating your farm and helping others, by chasing foxes, racoons crows and gophers off their farms. Your in a world all of your own in Farmville, and between us, I have named all of my sheep! (insert even sicker joke here)
I wish I had a great end to this blog, but I am on level 19 and I have an entire crop of pumpkins that need to be harvested, and then Kerry Ann's farm has gophers to chase off, Lynnie's farm has crows to be chased, Lewis has some weeds to pick and Christin needs help with foxes.
A psudo farmers work is never done !!! Green Acres here I come !!!
P.S. Next up Mafia Wars, Cafe World or maybe Vampire Wars....An addicts life is a full one !!!
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
The Yellow Menace
September is here friends, that means leaves start to turn, Geese start to migrate, Gardens start to wither, long summer nights begin to get shorter and cooler. It also marks the return of every drivers enemy, no not the Ball rolling into traffic or the occasional Deer, Dog, Cat or Polar Bear (Alaska only) meandering in the road or the road construction that they seem to only start in September. I am referring to the Menace of the rush hour traffic . . . The School Bus!!
I'm sure we have all at one time or another been caught in what I affectionately like to call "The Bus Loop", this is when you are caught between 2 or more school Bus routes and can't get anywhere.
Picture if you will your off to work, birds are singing, the sky clear and blue, your favorite song is playing on the radio, the fresh air is lightly seeping in through the windows, a faint pleasantness covers you and you aura is a pale blue (I am told that is a good color for an aura), your hitting all the green lights, life at that particular moment is good. Then all of a sudden you hear the D.J. say "Welcome to September", the Radio gets all static, your eyes get all itchy and you catch a whiff of a foul pungent odor (not unlike my in-laws cooking) its Diesel fuel, your ears echo with the un-Godly squeal that sends chills up and down your back, as you shake it off and your eyes clear, you focus on the beast that has taken up residence in your path, your spine stiffens and your head drops to your chest . . . . . That's right folks school is in session . . . . . Behold the Yellow Beast, the vaunted school bus bane of the commuters existence. That Titanic Yellow smog belching, slow moving, wheel squealing pain in the "Derrière" has reared it's ugly head and returned to choke up our rush hour commuting.
Nothing says September like the school bus, your driving, you take a sip of coffee or soda (tonic) you look up and there it is, red lights flashing for you and green lights for your torcher. The Marquis de Sade could not have come up with a better torcher device then the school bus.
You come to the end of your driveway or street you look left and see the evil traffic hog (school bus), so you turn right to avoid it thinking you are smart, then . . . the traffic beast! You get 50 feet and "SLAP" your behind a clone of your enemy and it has stopped in front of a house, red lights flash and the swinging stop sign on the front grill signaling the world has to stop and wait for yet another sleep deprived, unprepared parent to take their time strolling down the walk at a snails pace escorting their precious bundle of joy (speed-bumps with feet in some cases) to the waiting bus. Upon which we are now way-laid yet again because the parent feels the need to engage in a lengthy conversation with the Driver of the traffic beast as if they were long lost relatives, and then we wait while the 3 foot tall sack of protoplasm wanders the isle to fine the perfect seat for themselves. Then and only then do we see the red lights go out the stop sign swing in and you are off at a turtles pace 100 yards up to the next door . . . . . "SERENITY NOW!!"
But this is only one sadistic pleasure of the demon school bus, here are just a few other occurrences that come to fruition in the wake of the yellow devil transportation device.
They love to drive with the yellow flashers on whether they are stopping or not. At rail road tracks they stop turn on their lights as if they are signaling the UFO mother-ship, they open the doors and look to see if a train is coming at them, tell me again why we taxpayers paid for the rail road track safety lights and train gates? Last but not least is the cargo they transport, those mini humans, making faces, flipping you off and sometimes smashing their butts up against the window at the rear (no pun intended) of the bus, as if you are not annoyed enough they torcher you a bit more.
"I Love the smell of Diesel in the Morning"
But alas much like bad stroganoff this too shall pass, in the mean time we endeavor to persevere while we secretly push pins in our yellow school bus voo doo dolls, and hope that in the years to come these little people will be able to grow up and be just as pissy as we are at the Yellow demon transport known as the school bus. Besides what could be worse? . . . Oh wait a second, October is coming ... make way for the Leaf peepers !
I'm sure we have all at one time or another been caught in what I affectionately like to call "The Bus Loop", this is when you are caught between 2 or more school Bus routes and can't get anywhere.
Picture if you will your off to work, birds are singing, the sky clear and blue, your favorite song is playing on the radio, the fresh air is lightly seeping in through the windows, a faint pleasantness covers you and you aura is a pale blue (I am told that is a good color for an aura), your hitting all the green lights, life at that particular moment is good. Then all of a sudden you hear the D.J. say "Welcome to September", the Radio gets all static, your eyes get all itchy and you catch a whiff of a foul pungent odor (not unlike my in-laws cooking) its Diesel fuel, your ears echo with the un-Godly squeal that sends chills up and down your back, as you shake it off and your eyes clear, you focus on the beast that has taken up residence in your path, your spine stiffens and your head drops to your chest . . . . . That's right folks school is in session . . . . . Behold the Yellow Beast, the vaunted school bus bane of the commuters existence. That Titanic Yellow smog belching, slow moving, wheel squealing pain in the "Derrière" has reared it's ugly head and returned to choke up our rush hour commuting.
Nothing says September like the school bus, your driving, you take a sip of coffee or soda (tonic) you look up and there it is, red lights flashing for you and green lights for your torcher. The Marquis de Sade could not have come up with a better torcher device then the school bus.
You come to the end of your driveway or street you look left and see the evil traffic hog (school bus), so you turn right to avoid it thinking you are smart, then . . . the traffic beast! You get 50 feet and "SLAP" your behind a clone of your enemy and it has stopped in front of a house, red lights flash and the swinging stop sign on the front grill signaling the world has to stop and wait for yet another sleep deprived, unprepared parent to take their time strolling down the walk at a snails pace escorting their precious bundle of joy (speed-bumps with feet in some cases) to the waiting bus. Upon which we are now way-laid yet again because the parent feels the need to engage in a lengthy conversation with the Driver of the traffic beast as if they were long lost relatives, and then we wait while the 3 foot tall sack of protoplasm wanders the isle to fine the perfect seat for themselves. Then and only then do we see the red lights go out the stop sign swing in and you are off at a turtles pace 100 yards up to the next door . . . . . "SERENITY NOW!!"
But this is only one sadistic pleasure of the demon school bus, here are just a few other occurrences that come to fruition in the wake of the yellow devil transportation device.
They love to drive with the yellow flashers on whether they are stopping or not. At rail road tracks they stop turn on their lights as if they are signaling the UFO mother-ship, they open the doors and look to see if a train is coming at them, tell me again why we taxpayers paid for the rail road track safety lights and train gates? Last but not least is the cargo they transport, those mini humans, making faces, flipping you off and sometimes smashing their butts up against the window at the rear (no pun intended) of the bus, as if you are not annoyed enough they torcher you a bit more.
"I Love the smell of Diesel in the Morning"
But alas much like bad stroganoff this too shall pass, in the mean time we endeavor to persevere while we secretly push pins in our yellow school bus voo doo dolls, and hope that in the years to come these little people will be able to grow up and be just as pissy as we are at the Yellow demon transport known as the school bus. Besides what could be worse? . . . Oh wait a second, October is coming ... make way for the Leaf peepers !
P.S. Ask me what my wife does for work !
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Why does the Friggin' Chicken continually cross the road?
All my life I have been told of or asked about, "why the chicken cross the road"?
Well, who is this chicken, why is it always crossing the road and why has no one either run his ass over or caught the feathered covered lunch on the go and made him into something delicious for us all to eat and I am not referring to those Chicken McNuggets because we all know they are nothing more then beaks and claws.
Now, back to this permanent pedestrian pullet who seams to be Jaywalking his way across all of our roads. Does this chicken suffer from O.C.D. and must cross the road? or perhaps our fleet footed feathered friend has been listening to aliens telling him to cross the road or maybe it is a real life version of the movie "Speed", if the chicken doesn't keep crossing the road he will explode into some form of yummy K.F.C. variety pack with mashed potatoes and gravy.
I bet no one has a definitive answer of why the chicken crossed the road, besides the ever popular . . . to get to the other side. So I have come up with 10 possible reasons our pre-Fricasseed entrée has flown the coup for a life of street walking.
1. Because the black jelly beans were on the others side.
2. He wanted to see what Hookers do all night.
3. He was practicing playing "Frogger".
4. He was juggling June bugs and lost track of where he was.
5. He took a wrong turn at Albuquerque.
6. He was escaping the Colonel.
7. So he can't hear any more why did the chicken cross the road jokes.
8. He was doing the chicken dance.
9. The words Barack Obama means cross the road in chicken.
10. The Penguins made him do it.
To be completely candid with you, I think he crosses the road to be completely indifferent and to push my buttons just like the Penguins. So now I think I will have some chicken soup, fried chicken and do the funky chicken while I contemplate the death of that psycho chicken and his Jaywalking feathered ass ways.
Leg or Breast?
Well, who is this chicken, why is it always crossing the road and why has no one either run his ass over or caught the feathered covered lunch on the go and made him into something delicious for us all to eat and I am not referring to those Chicken McNuggets because we all know they are nothing more then beaks and claws.
Now, back to this permanent pedestrian pullet who seams to be Jaywalking his way across all of our roads. Does this chicken suffer from O.C.D. and must cross the road? or perhaps our fleet footed feathered friend has been listening to aliens telling him to cross the road or maybe it is a real life version of the movie "Speed", if the chicken doesn't keep crossing the road he will explode into some form of yummy K.F.C. variety pack with mashed potatoes and gravy.
I bet no one has a definitive answer of why the chicken crossed the road, besides the ever popular . . . to get to the other side. So I have come up with 10 possible reasons our pre-Fricasseed entrée has flown the coup for a life of street walking.
1. Because the black jelly beans were on the others side.
2. He wanted to see what Hookers do all night.
3. He was practicing playing "Frogger".
4. He was juggling June bugs and lost track of where he was.
5. He took a wrong turn at Albuquerque.
6. He was escaping the Colonel.
7. So he can't hear any more why did the chicken cross the road jokes.
8. He was doing the chicken dance.
9. The words Barack Obama means cross the road in chicken.
10. The Penguins made him do it.
To be completely candid with you, I think he crosses the road to be completely indifferent and to push my buttons just like the Penguins. So now I think I will have some chicken soup, fried chicken and do the funky chicken while I contemplate the death of that psycho chicken and his Jaywalking feathered ass ways.
Leg or Breast?
Sunday, April 5, 2009
The Musings of a Modern day Neanderthal
Thomas Moore has said, "That a piece of the sky and a chunk of the earth lie lodged in the heart of every human being".
I am curious, Sky & Earth, would they be Good or Bad Cholesterol? Is Sky fattening like cool whip? Are there any trans-fats in chunks of Earth?
Hey don't look at me I was just asking . . . Me Go Kill Mammoth Now ...UG!
This has been another Illiterate Literary moment by Mr. Fitz. management and Blogger take no responsibility for his comments, content or meandering thoughts.
***There were No Mammoth's harmed in the making of this Blog
I am curious, Sky & Earth, would they be Good or Bad Cholesterol? Is Sky fattening like cool whip? Are there any trans-fats in chunks of Earth?
Hey don't look at me I was just asking . . . Me Go Kill Mammoth Now ...UG!
This has been another Illiterate Literary moment by Mr. Fitz. management and Blogger take no responsibility for his comments, content or meandering thoughts.
***There were No Mammoth's harmed in the making of this Blog
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Nature's Mulligan
Aristotle said "Nature does nothing Uselessly"
Fitzy Says if that is true explain The Duck billed Platypus, Women's back hair, SPAM, the reason Evil Penguins haunt me and Rosie O'Donnell.
Fitzy Says if that is true explain The Duck billed Platypus, Women's back hair, SPAM, the reason Evil Penguins haunt me and Rosie O'Donnell.
This Blog has been brought to you by P.E.T.A. (People for the Ethical Treatment of Assholes), The Number 13, The Letters F & U and the color Red (Red is the new Pink).
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Heaven or Hell
For those of you that know me, you know the joke associated with me, that when I shuffle ball change off this mortal coil that I will be driving Satan's Tour Bus to hell, and the other comment that I have used for years that no matter what happens to me or where I end up Heaven or Hell that I am sure I can make a better deal that the one I am given. Blasphemy I know, but If you know me you also know I have a problem with Authority even the Big-big Guys.
Well here's the poop, I was in a conversation with a few people at work and made the statements about the tour bus and the work a better deal, and the 3 people I were talking to gave me a sort of sneer, actually only 2 of them did the 3rd has this naturally crest fallen face so she always walks around looking like she is pissed at the world.
So, after the ever so brief pause one of them says, "You know now I am curious about something, what would you do if you really did end up in Hell?" I didn't even waste a millisecond and spurted out I would have the only Gatorade concession stand in Hell (on the corner of Hell-bent Ave and Hitler Street).
Before I lost my audience to the grown of discontent I said on the other hand if I was lucky enough to go to Heaven, instead of to usual Angel wing preening and Pearly gates polishing I would have the only Satan piñata kiosk at the Halo Galleria Mall. It would be great 5 bucks a whack and if you are lucky enough to smash Satan open you get stuff like Wax wings, Candy halos, cinnamon pitchforks and chocolate ten commandments and little Jesus Plushy toys (cause lets face it nothing says I love you like a Jesus Plushy toy).
After a tense silence, a few head shakes, 2 sneers and 1 crest fallen glair I hear "Good Luck with the Gatorade concession stand!" I laughed because everything was said in fun, but lets face facts for me it is not where I end up, but how I can trip up who ever is in charge, so either way I look at it as a win-win for me.
P.S. I would rather go to Heaven By the way, I hear they have a great Baseball Team.
Fitzy: Legion of Decency Retired
Well here's the poop, I was in a conversation with a few people at work and made the statements about the tour bus and the work a better deal, and the 3 people I were talking to gave me a sort of sneer, actually only 2 of them did the 3rd has this naturally crest fallen face so she always walks around looking like she is pissed at the world.
So, after the ever so brief pause one of them says, "You know now I am curious about something, what would you do if you really did end up in Hell?" I didn't even waste a millisecond and spurted out I would have the only Gatorade concession stand in Hell (on the corner of Hell-bent Ave and Hitler Street).
Before I lost my audience to the grown of discontent I said on the other hand if I was lucky enough to go to Heaven, instead of to usual Angel wing preening and Pearly gates polishing I would have the only Satan piñata kiosk at the Halo Galleria Mall. It would be great 5 bucks a whack and if you are lucky enough to smash Satan open you get stuff like Wax wings, Candy halos, cinnamon pitchforks and chocolate ten commandments and little Jesus Plushy toys (cause lets face it nothing says I love you like a Jesus Plushy toy).
After a tense silence, a few head shakes, 2 sneers and 1 crest fallen glair I hear "Good Luck with the Gatorade concession stand!" I laughed because everything was said in fun, but lets face facts for me it is not where I end up, but how I can trip up who ever is in charge, so either way I look at it as a win-win for me.
P.S. I would rather go to Heaven By the way, I hear they have a great Baseball Team.
Fitzy: Legion of Decency Retired
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Even Steven
I just read in the newspaper that a married couple from New Orleans tried to trade 2 children in their care for a Cockatoo and $175.00 in cash.
Now not that I condone this mode of thinking, but I would have thought they would have held out for 2 cockatoo's, some seed, and the $175.00, What were they thinking? Dam armatures.
So I was thinking, if this is going to be all the rage to go back to the old system of Trades and Bartering system, then I have prepared a list of things I would like to trade and what I would like in exchange for them.
1. One slightly used up parent for Peace and quiet for 1 month.
2. A pair of female siblings for 1 box of coconut girl scout cookies
3. A well used pair of Spot-bilt sneakers (circa 1981) for a Autographed photo of Dawnzie Greene.
4. A fine assortment of In-Laws (persons to be named later) for a block of seriously sharp cheddar cheese.
5. A Poster of Samantha Fox (a bit worn on 1 side) for World Peace ( sorry about the price, I really like the Poster).
*****Straight Trades Only ~ Even Steven
******No Indian Givers - Take backs or Substitutions
*****No Warranties or Guarantees given or implied
****Tax, Title,Registrations,Directions and Batteries not included
~Trader Beware~All Trades Final~
Now not that I condone this mode of thinking, but I would have thought they would have held out for 2 cockatoo's, some seed, and the $175.00, What were they thinking? Dam armatures.
So I was thinking, if this is going to be all the rage to go back to the old system of Trades and Bartering system, then I have prepared a list of things I would like to trade and what I would like in exchange for them.
1. One slightly used up parent for Peace and quiet for 1 month.
2. A pair of female siblings for 1 box of coconut girl scout cookies
3. A well used pair of Spot-bilt sneakers (circa 1981) for a Autographed photo of Dawnzie Greene.
4. A fine assortment of In-Laws (persons to be named later) for a block of seriously sharp cheddar cheese.
5. A Poster of Samantha Fox (a bit worn on 1 side) for World Peace ( sorry about the price, I really like the Poster).
*****Straight Trades Only ~ Even Steven
******No Indian Givers - Take backs or Substitutions
*****No Warranties or Guarantees given or implied
****Tax, Title,Registrations,Directions and Batteries not included
~Trader Beware~All Trades Final~
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Idol chatter
American not so IdolI am subjected to this show only because the wife likes it and I in my infinite wisdom have decided to mature ever so slightly and agree to watch some of the things she likes.
I grin and bare it but not without my usual subtle comments, like are they hearing what we are? and why hasn't there parents or relatives told them they have no talent? There is nothing to idolize in this seasons American Idol, from the judges to the "so called" talent it has to be the worst season ever aired.
Lets start with the Judges, 4 is too many and defeats what the have tried to achieve, let alone it takes forever to hear their drivel.
Meet the Judges: Randy Jackson , same as he is all the time, a waffler. Paula Abdul the flaky inconsistent air head that rambles (un-like me I may add), Simon Cowell, has no bite or witty repartee as he has in the past, almost like the viper has been defanged. Now we get to the so called singer/songwriter Kara DioGuardi, she is smug, condescending and so full of her self that it is pouring out her ears. Not to mention we all know the real reason she was brought in, to replace Paula when her contract is (Possibly) not renewed. She uses the word "Chops" almost as much as Randy uses the word "Dog"
Meet the not so talented . . . . all of the contestants so far have been like listening to long fingernails on a chalk board, when it is on I hear dogs in the neighborhood howling, guinea pigs are whooping and bats are flying into walls. Stop the insanity end the show, or at least speak to my wife and convince her wall paper paste drying is better to watch. I can not be the only one to think this.
We are almost at the final 12, so maybe it will get better, but the way they have set up to get the final 12 thus far has been unentertaining, lame and is responsible for brain sucking headaches among countless viewers, and I have not even broached the consistent hocking of their lame singing on Itunes and other MP3 sites, if they suck so bad that they are being voted off, why would I want to pay for their crappy mutilating of perfectly good songs?
America should be laughing at you not buy your tripe and Ryan Seacrest come out of the closet you Dick Clark wanna-beAmerican Idol has become the show to Mock and I shall!
Fitzy: Legion of Decency Retired
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Translation of a Coherent thought into a Abstract Definition
Translation of a Coherent thought into a Abstract Definition
Nathaniel Hawthorne once said, "Every individual has a place to fill in the world and is important"
Fitzy's Abstract definition, "We are all place holders in the Giant File cabinet known as life, but the good news is we are important place holders"
Fitzy: Legion of Decency Retired
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Out of Touch and Out of time
We interrupt our regularly scheduled silly nonsensical blog for a venting of real annoyance.
Being a product of the early 1960's I sometimes feel out of touch with some of the Fads or technology used by the teenagers today, but even more today as I read an Associated Press article in the newspaper about a DNA test for a 13 year old boy who has said he is the father of his 15 year old girlfriends baby.
This is just insane to me and it makes me wonder if I'm just on the threshold of staying current and slipping into out of touch-ville or have I already become an Analog signal in a Digital world?
Call me old, out of touch, over the hill, yesterdays child,, not relevant or whatever "fossilized" term you would like to come up with, but I find it disturbing when a 13 year old needs a paternity test, not to find his father, but to find out IF he is a father and we just accept this and are not taken a-back about it as if this is the way it is now.
When I was 13 I was playing sports, watching cartoons and just beginning to notice girls, Hell getting to first base was a big deal then. Maybe it's a sign of the times. What were you doing when you were 13?
More at 11 .........................................Good News for Egg lovers!
Fitzy: Legion of Decency Retired
Friday, February 13, 2009
The Art of the Valentines Gift
The Art of the Valentines Gift
Yes it is true, the love bug day has once again reared its ugly head and Cupid is sharpening his love arrows while men everywhere are running scared for gift ideas to top last Valentines Day. Something that will prevent that scowl she will give him or the cold shoulder and sharp slap to the family jewels.
I am here to help (No, not really) over the years as I have learned some Do's and Don'ts (mostly Don'ts) and as I evolve (and I use that term "Evolve" very loosely) I know what is 100% not the right gift, here are the top 10 from last Valentines Don'ts.
1. Odor Eaters - Size 12
2. Flea dip for her pet or a family member to be named later.
3. Push-up Bra made of old duct tape and bungee cords.
4. A new thong made from the tinfoil of the leftovers from the last time you took her out to a restaurant, which was last Valentines Day.
5. Teeth.
6. A newspaper coupon for 10% off of a Facial electrolysis.
7. A bowling ball.
8. Peanut butter crackers from the Dollar Tree store.
9. A bouquet of Lilies wrapped with poison oak all around it.
10. Chocolates with Habanera peppers in the centers.
These have been just a few that I know first hand are not well received valentines day gifts. I say to all of you, no matter what you get your wife, girlfriend, mother, baby's Momma, mistress or stalking victim, do it with Love in your heart, a helmet on your head, a cup for you man parts and a suit of armor, just in case you come up with number 11 for next years Valentines Days gifts Don't.
Happy Valentines Day and Good Luck, you will need it.
Fitzy: Legion of Decency Retired
Saturday, February 7, 2009
More at 11
More at 11
Have you ever noticed that in all the News Reports, the reporter concentrates on the extremely bad news with that If it Bleeds it leads sort of mentality. They drill into us the Deaths, destructions, Illness, poisonings and product recalls. Then they leave you hanging with only half the information with the ever so cleaver and elegant "More at 11" or "More to Come on that story"
Then they add in at the end of the (So Called) horrific situation some form of nonsensical good news or comment, something so that they try and make you feel like they have just rescued you from falling off the ledge of a building.
Have you ever noticed that in all the News Reports, the reporter concentrates on the extremely bad news with that If it Bleeds it leads sort of mentality. They drill into us the Deaths, destructions, Illness, poisonings and product recalls. Then they leave you hanging with only half the information with the ever so cleaver and elegant "More at 11" or "More to Come on that story"
Then they add in at the end of the (So Called) horrific situation some form of nonsensical good news or comment, something so that they try and make you feel like they have just rescued you from falling off the ledge of a building.
This Blog has just given your computer a deadly virus . . . . "More at 11"!!!
...Good news for Penguins!
Fitzy: Legion of Decency Retired
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