There are few things in life that get my goat other than the obvious (goat-nappers) and people like Tareq and Michaele Salahi. The mere fact that I know who these people are makes my goat want to get got and me want to give myself a lobotomy. Sadly, though, there's nary a way to avoid these assholes anymore, regardless of whether you're in Bravo's Real Housewives demographic or not. Yes now, simply by default of being near a television, you're forced to encounter these clear f*ck-ups in evolution whether you want to or not. For example, here they are farting all over HBO's Real Sports w/ Bryant Gumbel yesterday.
My goat just ate a revolver and shot itself inside out. What a f*cking sh*tshow...
And while I grab my Shamwow to clean this mess up, riddle me this: Do the Salahis prove that the whole world is against us or does their dopey omnipresence demonstrate an inside job? That is, who's trying to keep us from being anything more than that old stereotype of Hollywood for ugly people? Because really, this time-machine version of Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt is doing more to make sure we remain just that but dumber than any Martha Washington-looking politician ever did, including even George Washington and his purported 30 dicks.
I mean, seriously, what is going on here? If it's all the Salahis' doing, I ask what happened to the days when being rich meant you built a compound named Xanadu and went crazy in opulent privacy? Why are people today so intent on putting their private shambles on a public stage, especially in DC where being famous for fame's sake has no obvious pay-off. In fact, save for the President and a few pre-selected others, more often than not, when people in DC become household names to America-at-large, it's usually a sign that you'll soon be cast off into obscurity. Larry Craig, Eric Massa, Mark Foley, Scooter Libby: Where are they now? (Answer: Consulting, Tickling, Florida, Unemployed.)
The only sure way to stave off that unfortunate fate is to have a talent. In other words, the Salahis are f*cked.
In fact, they're so f*cked that I think no mortal being would ever want to intentionally create such a hell-on-Earth for themselves. Which means the Salahis seem like an outsider's attempt to keep DC down. These outsiders wonder, "If DC were to ever get legitimately cool, then what would happen to the the status of cities like New York and L.A.?" Indeed, it's brilliant! What better way to make sure DC stays an uncool Hollywood for ugly people than by treating uncool ugly people like they're Hollywood?
Aha! I ask you, why did Bryant Gumbel invite the Salahis on his show? Clearly, it wasn't just to talk about polo! Yes, after exhausting myself trying to find out where Tareq stood in the world polo rankings and failing (I'm talking, like, five Google searches, people!), the Internet gave me the impression that Tareq is as influential in the game as a baby sloth is at not being cute. FAIL!
O! You sneaky bastards, other towns! You almost got us! But get this -- most of us here don't want it. We don't want to be New York or Hollywood. If we did, we'd move there. Proudly and defiantly, we are and shall always remain a place where the less attractive get the most TV time. (The Anti DC Show ain't gonna be a success 'cause it's easy on the eyes!) However, we beg you to let DC remain a place where we can forever be smarter than you. Slopping up the airwaves with the Salahis representing Washington is not only like throwing salt in our unattractive wounds, but it's like crashing the whole salt truck into our hideously deformed eye sockets. Now, we can't even see. And if we can't see, not only is DC f*cked, but the whole damn world is. It's like Hollywood's slipped us a mickey and now we're the company CEO at the office party with his shirt off and the lampshade on his head. As much as I hate our usual buttoned-up demeanor, it still beats being the formerly respected boss who wakes up the next day in a pile of his own vomit; he staggers over to the bathroom mirror only to find out he joined the PEN15 club via a magic-marker tattoo on his forehead. The whole thing's a disgrace.
So please, let's sober up and forget this notion that we, ourselves, or any outsiders can ever rid us of our image of being the NPR nerds. My friends, just like you cannot polish a turd, you also cannot tarnish it. A turd is a turd is a turd! Now, if you'll excuse me, I must see what that Real Housewife Diane Rehm is up to.