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Tuesday, February 01, 2011

That damned Correspondent

What's Mallard raving about today?

Unemployment, Baby Boomers.

Mallard's previous job, and his current hobby, is being a water-carrying lick-spittle for those with a massive sense of entitlement (as well as open disdain for those in lower economic classes, including their water-carrying lick-spittles).

With a bit of skill he should be able to spin that the right way and finally get back to work.

7 comments:

Tog said...

Sheeeeeeesh.

And it's coming from a little rat bastard from that very same generation, who likes to pretend once a year or so that his father's war service makes him practically a veteran.

"I'm not racist! YOU are!!" is giving way to "I'm not a baby-boomer simpleton with a overbearing sense of entitlement! YOU are!!"

And I'd love to see whatever the hell set Batshit off on this tangent. This is becoming weirder than his obsession with teenage "pop tarts."

Kip W said...

The baby boomers are the first generation to be censured for daring to write about their lives. It's all our fault, too, for turning thirty, and then forty, and then fifty, and like that.

WV: forti. If only.

Anonymous said...

Where does this "entitlement" thing come from? I thought that was generations "X" and "Y".

Frank Stone said...

Sounds like Mallard's dream job. Not only would he have money for booze and junk food again, but, more importantly, he'd also have a steady stream of things and people that he could complain about. Thus, what he calls his life would have what he calls meaning.

WV: duped: What all those Hollywood celebrities have been by PETA.

rewinn said...

"Those with a profound sense of entitlement" precisely describe unfunny conservatives who demand space in a newspaper or on the airwaves.

Bill the Splut said...

"...A sense of entitlement, plus a total lack of even the merest shred of self-awareness. Bile a plus." Mallard, you're HIRED!

Kip W said...

Quiet, Anonymous! We don't dare suggest that Gen X or Gen Y has a sense of entitlement. We need to suffer in silence, or they'll pitch a fit that makes what's come before sound like "Kum Ba Ya."