Ice Road Fuckers: The Dangerous World of Television

      Having a job is way of life for most of the people on this planet. Sure, we'd love to while away the hours playing skee ball and sipping expensive champagne from the navel of a beautiful woman, but, alas, shit like that isn't free, especially the woman. Hence the need for a job or money making scheme...like dealing drugs. All of which are hard work to some degree suck fucking ass.

Pictured: Work sucking ass.

      So, why has t.v., with it's god like intuition, chosen to make work harder? Everyday there seems to be a new show about an everyday, regular, suck ass job, only it's difficulty has been ramped up to insane proportions. It's as though the initial job, that was the focus of the show, wasn't awful enough. No, they needed the element of life threatening insanity to make it palatable to the death lusting public. 

Tasty. I'm not sure whether to acknowledge 

my boner or go with my gag reflex. 

      There are shows about baking, logging and storage unit scavengers, all of which have been altered to increase their intensity.  The biggest offender, as of late, is the Ice Road Trucker series and it's ilk. What started out as an interesting look into the lives of truckers and their...trucking...on one of America's most difficult thoroughfares. It has since turned into "how to increasingly come close to killing truckers". At some point, the networks in their infinite wisdom decided that regular jobs, just aren't exciting enough for viewers anymore. Your job is fucking boring people! So, unless we toss in the element of pants shitting fear, no one will be interested. 

Fuck this is boring...pass me a pillow.

      While it's true that a majority of jobs are mother fucking boring (that summer I spent clubbing baby seals, poisoning their meat and feeding it to dolphins...BORING.), there are a lot that have dramatic elements all on their own. Why take a semi-dangerous job and throw more danger at it? It seems like a lot of overkill...big, stupid ass overkill. 

      I can understand the need to captivate viewer interest, but, cranking up the death factor only makes regular people, with those same jobs, seem inferior in comparison. Besides, upping the danger is just a cheap and easy fix. Eventually, people get bored with the current danger level you have to start all over...only danger...er. Soon, it's truckers knife fighting each other in a "terror dome" situation, using their trucks as shields and possible bomb fodder.

TERROR DOME!

      Along with the leveling up of fear comes a real world fall out. People that actually have those jobs are soon viewed as the lower end of the spectrum. As if, for some reason, their version of the job is the "special ed" version compared to the t.v.'s real deal. Which of course it isn't.

      Using the trucker example, an average trucker might hear, "Oh, you're a trucker? Awesome! I watched a show the other night on t.v., this guy drove a rig on the side of a cliff, while screaming and shitting himself in Honduras. Is it like that? Oh...it's not, well, you must have it easy.". I think that most truckers would try hard to hide an angry scowl. They might even refrain from placing a well deserved "fuck yourself" punch in the middle of your forehead...before drinking all of your alcohol and destroying your home on a speed binge.

Oh, shit. I guess you all have to die now.

      Slapping asinine and unneeded elements into a job that is already dangerous and suck ass just aggravates the problem. If the job that's featured isn't cutting it anymore, find another job to focus on. Everyone's job sucks ass and all of them generate material to warrant a show. Lord knows there aren't enough shows about busty, high paid escorts. Make a few of them! I'd watch them! Well, until the show degrades into high grade hookers fighting their way out of haunted, abandoned factories with only Swiss Army knives and condoms. Then, I'll be forced to abide myself with Death Truckers of The Terror Dome!

Kidneys for Christmas

      Christmas is basically on our door step! It's crouched like a maniacal red and green strangler, lying in wait, to choke the life out of you as you let the dog out to take a shit! It's practically breathing down our collective scrotum. Okay...that might be a little much...but, it is approaching,fast. Like a fucking vulture swooping in to pick over your already financially defunct bones. Damned Jesus and his corporate affiliates! Alright, enough with the similes, it's fucking coming is what I'm saying.

I want your kids!..er...

to give presents to your kids. 

Weed presents.

      Christmas is astronomical when it comes to shopping for kids. I might have to mug the fuck out of old people on their way home from church bingo (Sorry, Jesus, but, prayer doesn't pay much as a good mugging these days.), just to afford it. Note to future parents, as your beautiful child ages...everything it does, wants and wishes for is damned fucking expensive. When they're little, kids toys are basically hollowed out plastic. You don't need much material when you're making shit that, by design, needs to resist being swallowed whole. The older a kid gets, the more their toys take on technical aspects, like, screens...and bullets...and bullet screens. All of these things ramp up the cost to compensate for the perceived awesomeness of the toy...until the newer shit comes out a month later. What does this mean for parents? Another mortgage on the house to buy this shit, is what it means. Much like herpes, every subsequent outbreak of Christmas seems to get more expensive and itchy than the last.

Someone's about to get a little naughty shoved up their list

...with a side order of herps. Ho hoooo yeah.

Fucking Christmas. The price for shit we don't actually need keeps going up. It's unreal. Even bizarre things like the twelve days of Christmas stuff. Check it out! Soon, it's going to be like paying for a chartered flight on Air Force One, to privately screen a necro porn flick involving Bill Gates blowing Steve Job's corpse, while being slathered with crude oil mixed with thousand dollar bills. If your not sure how much that would cost, you don't understand money, you're probably negligent with it and may harm kittens and or bunnies coated in love in the process...so you should send it to me.

Also accepting: gold bullion, silver ingots and cheese

As expensive as it is...and will be, I don't mind it. Christmas does seem magical to me, in a non-monetarily, soul sucking way. Not by much though. It's just the thought of all that money, disappearing like a million voices screaming out and suddenly being silenced, seems chilling. What the shit does Jesus and the Get Fresh Crew need all that fucking money for anyway? Burlap robes are crazy cheap? I should know. I looked into wearing them as a way to cut down on my clothing budget, in order to afford more presents. I gave up on it, however. Burlap rubbing up against my "precious pieces" is like slowly sandblasting...well, exactly like sandblasting your genitals. I'll get over it. It's once a year and I do like giving presents to my kids. They light up with happiness for a while and I smile. Wonderful memories are created that I hope, will last a life time. That's something you can't put a price on. Not readily anyway. I'm sure there's a think tank out there, sacrificing weekends and cocaine binges to find out. So, I need to roll up my sleeves...and maybe give a serious thought to a bit of male prostitution or perhaps selling off a few spare organs and I'll be ready for Christmas. Shit, maybe at the same time! That's a deal! Sex and organs. It's practically a company name.

Open for business!