Like a Cat Terd in a Punch Bowl, CornFed [read my book txt] 📗

cross-eyed. He was able to carry on a conversation with Captain Kirk Tickler while still winking at a few nice ladies who were trying to figure out if Groin Pains was shooting a reunion tour. He humored Luke Kirk-Walker by knodding his head, smiling, and saying something only the redundantly retarded would assume was a heart-felt answer.

Which, of course, the Kirk-man of Alcatraz did with each new stare into the camera holding his jolly stick microphone shaped like a Freudian sin-slip.

As I continued to hurl beer cans at the television set, you could almost hear the following come forth from the big man as the gentle and sweet Kirk pilfered him with pseudo love and his ever so flashy smile.

The large as a truck man was probably saying to himself …“Where the hell is this cracker coming from? Telling me all this mess on such a damn fine sunny day with all these honeys walking around, their legs shining like a fresh batch of Butter-Me-Nots? Shouldn’t he be busy filming something for Members Only Jackets?”

But, alas, I couldn’t do anything to help this poor man. I couldn’t Neo myself into the television and pull a Mr. Anderson into the chest of Captain Kirk Cameron. All I could do was drink beer, crush the cans, and stare in utter amazement at what Kirkish had become.

A spokesman for Eternity.

As I grew older, my disdain for Kirk disappeared as he stayed out of the spotlight more and more, apparently finding out that married life was more demanding than Groin Pains had led him to think. Until he decided it was time to take on something no one else had the forsight to consider.

A spokesman for Family Values

I had no idea his movie Fireproof had anything to do with family values. I love my family but you don’t have to go reminding me of it. Judging by the cover, I thought my super sensitive eyes was picking up something about a fireman falling in love, a story of love for the hardest working men on the block. Nope, it’s Kirkish again, trying to teach all of us another lesson from his life lesson notebook again.

Maybe he’ll teach little kids how to take a poop at some point? Maybe he calls it FirePoop?

Maybe as time goes on, my urge to Matrix-pummel-with-my-fists-up-the-side-of-Kirk Cameron will dissipate. I can only imagine that there’s someone else out there who’ll wear his tiny ballet shoes one day, put their hair in curlers, and decide it’s time to take a stand on the most silliest of propositions.

What he believes.

The only indepedence each of us have is what gets us up in the morning. Captain Communist China wants to change that. I hope he sees he is up for a good fight.

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Publication Date: 03-22-2010

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