People used to read. I mean really read. Not the way we read today. They were true readers. You wanted the news you read a newspaper, wanted to know how the game ended you read the box scores, wanted an escape from your everyday life you read a book. No televisions or computers, radios or DVD players. You just read read read read read. Well I don’t read shit. I’m not proud of it, but really, who has the time. I mean, where am I gonna find two extra hours a day to read a book? (Maybe not going to a bar for seven hours directly after work is a start.) I have an uncle who is a huge reader. Has his own library in his house, he’s read every book in there; the classics, science books, history books, autobiographies, everything. And every time I go to his house and walk into his library I feel like a real piece of garbage.
It’s not that I never read at all. It’s just that what I do read isn’t the most enlightening of material. I read two things on a regular basis: text messages and my girlfriend’s US Weekly magazine. I know. I know. That’s sickening. But it’s true. There are real readers out there today reading real things. But not me. Hey there Mr Big Reader what’s that you have there, a book about a young JFK? Sounds interesting but no thanks. Have my own reading material. My Razor. My buddy Craig just sent me the final installment on an untitled piece we’ll refer to as ‘The Saturday Night Series’. It read, “ended up getting a h-j from the fat 1?.
That’s the kind of breezy, informative writing style I enjoy.
And why don’t you explain something else to me Mr I’m-a-Smart-Reader-Cause-I-Read-So-Much-Really-Brilliant-Stuff. How, in the name of our good lord, am I supposed to settle down and curl up with a classic novel such as The Count of Monte Cristo, when I’m bouncing off the walls having just confirmed my wildest suspicions that Nicole Richie is indeed just like us, because she too has to put quarters in parking meters. Seriously, what kinda snob wastes time on a book written by some stuffy English geezer when you can be reading up on the fact that the chick from ‘Lost’ wore a dress better than the chick from ‘Laguna Beach’? Get your priorities straight.
I mean, it could be worse. I could be one of those maniacs who just sits around and reads blogs. Now that’s just pathetic.
