Wonkette
WE ARE ALL VIDEOPHONES: “The men seemed almost frantic in their humdrum work, because the excitement of the global economy is palpable, even to these olive-skinned young men, probably immigrant workers, saving Swiss Francs to send to their families back home.” [The Global Internationalist]
Ken, I love you, but I can’t make it through actual Thomas Friedman articles, how am i supposed to make it through a parody of those articles? I’d rather just keep reading Matt Taibbi rip him to shreds. I don’t mean any disrespect. It’s just you picked such a shitty subject to parody. So shitty, in fact, that he shitties up your parody.
Please don’t be mad, gracious wonkette overlord.
Skype has solved world hunger, ended the Iraq War, and saved humanity from itself.
God bless Skype.
And what the hell is Pope Cat doing in Zurich?
Where’s the buttsects? Where are the Trucknutz? What is this stuff?
So the world is flat and crowded and green AND Skyped?
I wonder what sort of video sex Tom Friedman and his wife have over Skype.
This all sounds very… Noonsian. Also, americanscandoanything’s teabaggy poem is up on Teablogging. Check it: http://teablogging.net/2009/04/14/teablogger-poetry-twas-the-night-before-tax-day/
Wonkette.com, a policy website in Washington D.C.
HAHAHAHAHahahahahahahaaahmmmmmm…. you maketh me laugh! 10-Q!
Skype will be a brilliant thing once they iron out the minor hiccups such as the non-performance of the Skype service. I will trade in my Netscape stocks for it once it happens.
EXTERIOR. DAY.
THE EMPTY STREETS OF ZURICH.
Our hero, Ken Layne, is paused at a red light in his Bentley. A bowling ball black limo pulls alongside, a tinted window rolls down to reveal a mongolian aristocrat. Ken adjusts his red scarf.
MONGOLIAN ARISTOCRAT: Do you have any Grey Poupon?
Ken responds with a few rounds from his AK-47. As the blood spatters aimlessly, Ken shouts:
KEN LAYNE: Grey Poupon is nouvea-riche American crap! Maille forever, BIOTCH!
An olive-skinned young man with a couple of Swiss Francs in his pocket? I am putty in his hands.
Now if it had been a Lexus and an olive-skinned man, I’d be all over it. Woo-hoo, globalised buttsecks!
And the earth spinning backwards is a nice touch. A Layne Unit: a discrete error dropped into a deadpan (for its audience) satire to either annoy the pedants or let a few of the less-confused ones know you’re just kidding.
Can SkyNet be far behind?
Sharif DelMonte:
Why do you hate me so?
Zurich? what? are you on the lam or something?
Haven’t you heard, Ken? Twitter is the new Skype.
grevillea: In a hot, flat, and crowded bath house? Starbursts!
I’m still trying to get over my brother-in-law’s revelation, when he visited the US in the early ’90s, that while your hamburgers were inferior to the traditional Australian variety (which include proper bacon, a fried egg and a slice of beetroot) you had superior toothpicks and something called Pringles. Why has globalisation only brought us the consolation of Pringles (readily available for over a decade down under)? Why are we still unable to buy your superior toothpicks? Why are there not themed Australian hamburger joints in every American hamlet?
Why, more importantly, have we no TRUCKNUTZ!
Numbat Dundee: Also, why have we no Trucknutz?
Illuminati much?
Numbat Dundee: Do you think in Australia they have TruckPouches?
Mmmmm….”olive-skinned young men”…