Since I wasn't alive when JFK was shot, let me tell you where I was when Janet Jackson's fucking tit made its appearance. To be accurate, I think I was in high school when I first saw the breast in question. On second thought, maybe that was LaToya's.
You know, this Janet Jackson controversy has got me thinking. If you stabbed the President of the United States while you were naked, think about how much frustration you would cause the television news media. Especially if you held your knife at groin level. If you have any friends in the TV industry who are paid for their ability to blur out human genetalia, I bet the best thing you could do for their careers would be to strap a knife onto your penis and fuck the president to death.
Now, where was I? Oh yeah, I was telling you where I was. I was in my apartment watching the Super Bowl with my mother.
As soon as halftime arrived, I put in a video of a boxing match I had taped the night before. I had seen the beginning of the match, so I knew that one guy would taste the canvas in a matter of minutes. When the inevitable happened, I turned back to the Super Bowl in time to see the end of the pitiful halftime show. Some illiterate, crotch-grabbing idiot, who I wouldn't toss a nickel to if I saw him yelping for change on the goddamn subway, was strutting around on stage spouting some non-melodic, English-desecrating nonsense.
Here's a question. Do you think these rappers practice that strut in front of a mirror? Or do you think they just tweak it based on the degree of "mojo" they see reflected in the eyes of their brothas? I hate to tell you, guys. Anyone who puts that much effort into walking "like you just don't care" sure as fuck cares.
So then the mostly-exposed tit shows up on my TV screen.
