The condensed version

See, the thing is not so much that I haven't anything to post about. The thing is I can't seem to narrow down the multitude of annoyances about which I could go on and on about.

For instance, last week I started a post about the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I want it back to being a parade and not a three-hour commercial. But somehow, in ranting about the farce that they call a parade, it turned into a rant about car commercials, particularly those presenting cars with big red bows because (to make a long rant short) it is the ultimate warping of the spirit of gift giving.

There was a brief (for me) mention of the landfill fodder churned out by Walmart and its willing accomplices who put their brand names on crap that clueless consumers buy thinking they're getting a top-of-the-line product.

Somehow this led to a portion best labeled "The Price of Your Conscience," which will someday be a legitimate piece I will write just as soon as I find someone interested enough in my point of view.

Then I spent way too many words discussing "designer labels" and how that phrase makes me want to set fire to the hair of every anorexic blond trophy wife in California (believe me, I somehow made this sound feasible and justified, at least to every normal woman in the country not married to an over-paid sports figure or not a "Housewife of...").

Hmmm....let's see....who else did I insult...Hannah Montana (or whatever her real name is) and Taylor Swift (whoever she is, but I keep hearing her mentioned), Disney (is no one else concerned about mind control?), Rita Mae Brown (who I love and don't really want to tick off, but honestly, Ms. Brown, the sign of true manners and breeding is that one does not POINT OUT OTHERS' LACK OF MANNERS AND BREEDING. Just sayin'...), Sarah Palin (she's like dog-doo on the bottom of the Republican party's shoe -- just when they think they've scraped her off onto the curb, her stench makes her presence known), and I think I stopped -- realizing I now had a post inching toward 1500 words -- just short of attacking (God forgive me) Paul McArtney (Please, Paul. Let us keep our memories of four talented Beatles...).

There.

I've just saved you a boat load of time.