Hold on. Really? Why?

We are a bunch of such clingy whiners. We keep bitching and moaning about things that we, however, will not let go of.

For instance, the Grammy awards, or for that matter any award show. A population the size of India, going by the stridency of voices, protests the unfairness, the pathetic quality of nominee selection and the worthlessness of the Grammies and yet a roughly similar sized mass watches the damn thing every year. Refuses to let go, much like that tall lass (a TV actress who plays a part in one of those serials with an unpronounceable 4-letter word – WRFT or BGRD or NCIS, something – as their title) who was clinging on to Dave Grohl. Neither wanted to let go – she, perhaps because a rock star is more famous than a TV actress in a serial with an unpron…oh, I see we’ve already done that; and he, maybe because he’s not quite reached the height (you may have to look at it upside down) of rock stardom like, say, a Mick Jagger. You know, just hold on to whatever you can lay a hand on even if it’s a TV actress with a part in a serial with an unp… See how hard it is to let go of things. Damn! But the Grammies aren’t all that bad. You know, Carrie Underwood flashing and all that, hmmmm?

I can't see anymore! Help!
I can’t see anymore! Help!

And of course, Facebook, or whatever social media dope you are on. Countless (I’m just estimating – I have 7 FB friends and 6 of them bitch about it. FB, not ‘being FB friends with me’…I think…I hope…OMG, could it be…???) zombies like me burn their screens with their unblinking gaze on Facebook pages and tap out endlessly messages of Zuckerberg’s baby sucking them dry but who can’t bring themselves to cut the cord. How else could they stalk their exes, huh? Tell me, tell me. The same exes who will not ‘un’friend their exes just so that they can stalk them in turn, ad infinitum. Wait, I think I mean ad nauseum. Hell no, I can’t afford to move away from keyboard and screen to even throw up. I just might miss the wit and charm of that friend unknown to me outside of Facebook who posts entries from his appointment book (I think, I’m not sure, but I think he works at the mortuary). See?

I think all these things run on the principle of ‘misery loves company’. Which is why my great app idea was stillborn. It was called Quitter.

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