posted on July 06, 2012 09:26
Andy Samuel Griffith died this week and a little bit of Americana went right along with him. You could watch Sherriff Andy Taylor deny Barney his ammunition or Ben Matlock work over a jury and never have to worry about hitting the mute button when your child walked in or awkwardly trying to explain away some joke that obviously hinted at fornication…you know – FUCKING.
These were times when you could flip through the channels without the fear of your 10-year old daughter seeing 2-broads making out if you happened to go by VH1 at the wrong time. Every ridiculously overrated sitcom from “How I Met Your Mother” to the absolute shitstorm that is “The Big Bang Theory” can’t make it to a commercial break without sexual innuendo and general inappropriateness.
Nope, you didn’t have to worry about good old Andy getting a DUI, flashing his balls on TMZ or slipping male masseurs extra cash to jerk them off in his downtime either. Andy was as clean as my cock ‘n’ balls after that repetitive back and forth “scrubbing” I dish out on it every morning in the interest of good hygiene.
Now our airwaves are not only filled with sex and smut, but the vast majority of actors on them cannot seem to stay off the police blotter or refrain from popping off with something stupid on Twitter. Then they have to go and tell me how to vote every four fucking years like having been pampered and waited on their entire adult lives somehow gives these brainless dick-bags some sort of political knowledge that is far superior to mine.
The innocence of Mayberry, North Carolina and courtroom drama of Atlanta, Georgia have given way to approximately 7-thousand versions of scripted “reality programming”, with the main recipe for success being plying the 20-something set with plush digs and enough alcohol to guarantee that somebody’s punching, puking or porking by the end of the hour.
Barney Fife and Aunt Bee have been replaced by “Snooki” and her overly tanned, and manned, vagina. Kim Kardashian is now a kazillionaire essentially because she took her ginormous ass and performed the best videotaped fucking of a black man since the L.A. Police Dept. We now watch religiously to see who she’s stooping next, what Kourtney’s douche of a baby-daddy is going to spew out of his hole and if Khloe is marching down the streets of Tokyo kicking cars aside and breathing fire.
Pure, “awe shucks” TV and respectable writing have given way to the slam dunk go-to of sex humor and faithful crutch of crude language. “Leave it to Beaver” would have endless opportunity in the hands of today’s sitcom writing staffs. People have stopped reading “To Kill a Mockingbird” on the sofa and started locking themselves in the bathroom for “Fifty Shades” of “Mommy time” and must read columns in the morning paper have now been replaced by some foul-mouthed jerkoff calling himself “KMFP” on some local website. Nothing is sacred in today’s vile world – and I love every minute of it.
Andy Samuel Griffith died this week, and man was that fucker boring.
Off to bail out Zimmerman…KMFP-out!