The Depriciation of Wit

No one appreciates wit anymore.

Intelligent, funny, sharp - but not bitter, like a good cheese that bites your tongue and leaves you hungry for another piece.

They all want one of two things: bitchy, snarky, angry, dumbed-down-ADD-style reporting of pseudo-facts and smutty allegations, or cheery, flowery wholesome God-loving, country-fried-smarm.

I can't write spite-filled, venomous articles - I'm not a shriveled little shrew with a black heart and garlicky soul. (P.S. If souls taste like garlic, order me up a big bowl of it! MMmm I love garlic)

And I won't write puffy, fluffy drivel about pink baby bonnets and the la-la lovey-dove lifestyle of the rich and braindead because, well, I would choke to death on my own self-loathing in minutes.

But to make it in this world, you have to pick a side and stick to it. And since wit don't pay the rent, I'll keep my smart, humorous eloquence to myself and get paid for whatever slop I can churn out.

Man, maybe its time to start my own blog.