DURST: The EXTREME
You want to know why people are cynical these days? Why they tend to trust their average fellow human about as far as you could throw a Chrysler Le Baron Convertible? Because Denny's tells us they have the best food in America. That's why. Because Mervyn's claims to be on the cutting edge of fashion. Because crap which we all know to be more useless than a roll bar in a helicopter is hyped and plugged and advertised as God's gift to plastic happy consumers. We are fed such a constant load of BS, I'm surprised we don't poop trails of straw. Actors and actresses oohing and aahing over cups of Folger's coffee that they know in real life smells of liquified gym shoe laces. Use a front loader full and its still tastes like hot bitter dirty water. Everything has to be the best. The biggest. The EXTREME. I hear that word EXTREME one more time and I swear to God, I'm going to pull an Elvis and put a .357 caliber hollow point into my Zenith. I don't want an EXTREME lip balm. I don't want an EXTREME gruyere cheese. As a matter of fact I don't want any EXTREME that can not be experienced from within six feet of my own couch. And even then, it had better be water soluble.