I felt this coming, like a rumbling in my bowels.
I'm walking down 1st Avenue in the East Village and I can't help but overhear two baby hipsters discussing Tom Skerritt's body of work. Can he act? Um, he was kinda good in 'The Great Santini'....
What the fuck?
Now I know New York City is all bohemian and cinephile-tastic and shit...but...Tom Skerritt?
Within twenty four hours of that moment of zen I'm overhearing and actually having conversations peppered with slack-jawed belligerence:
...and punctuated with those three evergreen syllables of regurgitated cranial pablum: "ohmigod!"
Yes, indeed: ValSpeak rears its ugly, empty head again and suddenly it's 1982...AGAIN! I can smell that year all the way from 2007, it stunk so bad (it was The Year Of My Italian Exchange Student...not worth going into here).
Turns out that the source of this dismal revival is a man in a dress who calls himself Kelly. You can't log onto MySpace without Kelly unpacking the 'rules/sucks' dichotomy over electroclash bleats and shrieks at top volume. Funny? Yes. On Friday, February 16th, 2007, yes, it is fairly amusing. But by, say, March 16th, 2007 your mother will be calling you "betch!" or "deck!" or worse, your 3 year-old nephew will be chanting "let me borrow that top" and you'll want to puke. Or gag you with a spoon or whateverelse L.A. she-tards are saying these days.
So log onto http://www.betchslap.com and get it over with.
You'll laugh, you'll share the videos with friends and then with any luck at all, you'll forget.