Lazy McLifelesspants

I really, really don't want to review this fucking blog.  That whole muted polka dot blogger template thing is easily my least favorite pre-made template. I am a big fan of polka dots but automatically antagonistic towards things that fade away, and all I want to do is draw lit fuses coming out of each dot, like a spread of Martha Stewart's sage round bomb collection, and wait for the fireworks.

Specator Speaks is run by Chandu, a journalist in India.  He...okay, so his grammar is impeccable.  His sentence structure is very safe, trained, and reined in from controversy and excitement, with vocab words of the month splattered appropriately and deliberately throughout his posts.  You remember when you were in college and you walked around asking random students about the easiest major on campus, and it was almost unanimously "Communications" so that's what you chose for your major, and all of your textbooks were like five editions behind because you couldn't afford the newest one?  His blog reads like that.

I hate that I cannot click on the title of a post and have it open as an isolated entry, and I have to click on the comments, and then click the link at the top of the comments page to view the blog, and I just realized that this very thing is also my biggest problem with the AAYSR site, and I should probably fucking remedy that instead of being a goddamn hypocrite.  Crap.  

On the plus side, you titled your blog well.  I can't imagine you doing anything but watching from the sidelines.

I hate that he tells the story of his friend and her willingness to stand up for herself, and instead of being left with a sense of justice, I'm exhausted.  I hate that he uses "clever" name ploys to trick the reader into subconsciously assuming unimportant traits about uninteresting characters.  This isn't Tango and Cash, and you know why?  Because Tango and Cash is a riveting, action-packed cinematic masterpiece* and I can tell:  even you are bored by your blog.  If you weren't, you would feed it regular meals instead of throwing it grizzle and apple cores whenever you remember it's there.

Speaking of Ray Tango, this is the worst tribute to Stallone I've ever read. I'm almost impressed. Stallone is the stuff of steroid nightmares: just a giant, hard, veiny penis with buckled flamingo legs and fucking rocket-launcher arms, how the hell do you make a man like that sound so dull and useless?  You couldn't even pay tribute with your own dull words, you had to steal them from someone else.   If you admire someone so much, do them fucking justice, don't just tell us over and over again that your obsession is eccentric, because I don't believe you.  There's no passion in your words, no opinion, no punch. Lazy McLifelesspants, that's what you are.

See this?  I don't even know what this means.

I'm very angry with you. If this was just the blog of a bystander, I'd give you a Meh, but you're a fucking professional journalist. I never want to read your articles. Ever.







* I will fight anyone who says otherwise.  With my fists.