So here it is, mid-February already. The days are starting to lengthen, the groundhogs are in the midst of shutting the fuck up for another year, and I find myself fighting a rising tide of disappointment in Tony Danza.
It's not because of "Who's the Boss?" - at least, not entirely because of that - and it's not because of his ill-fated daytime talk show. It's because I walked by the display window of a Barnes and Noble this morning on my way to the Fruit Plant, and I did not see a Republican-themed cookbook called Grill, Baby, Grill, written by Tony Danza, with an introduction by Arnold Schwarzenegger.
WT Fuck, Danza? WT Fuck?
I honestly don't know what I have to do to make this happen. I've tried everything there is. For the past six months, I have wished on every star I've seen. I have said prayers to Jesus and the Easter Bunny and All Their Buddies. I have farted "The Star-Spangled Banner." I have used radiation to amplify my brainwaves to that Tony Danza could receive the suggestion telepathically.
So far, I have nothing to show for all of that. Actually, I do have quite a large tumor just above my neck, but... oh, no, wait, that's just my head. So we're back to nothing. Six months of wishing and hoping and planning and praying down the drain.
I guess Dusty Springfield was right after all.
Now it's 2009, mid-February, all that other stuff I mentioned in the first paragraph. And there is still no Tony Danza Republican cookbook on the market. Meanwhile, the resonance of "drill, baby, drill" is disintegrating faster than the Democrats' ability to stay on message. Stupid Democrats. Stupid Republicans. Stupid Tony Danza. Stupid me. Stupid everybody.
But mostly, Stupid Jesus. If you go back far enough, this is clearly His fault. Jesus is the alpha and the omega of blame. So to those red-state consumers who are flush with spare cash for politically-themed cookbooks written by C-List celebrities who are not as telepathic as they're supposed to be, you know Whose fault this really is.