3/10/2005
One Critic, Two Critic, Read Critic, Screw Critic
You say that I'm vulgar and silly and shrill
You've seen funnier things on your cellular bill
I overact spastically, like I'm on meth,
Two minutes in, you were praying for death.
Well now that you've finished, I have to declare
You might pull your head out and breathe some fresh air
My performance is purposely dripping with ham
So that people don't think that's the way that I am.
(Although, to be honest, it basically is,
But you never can show your true face in this biz.)
But how could you know that? You're writers, not doers,
That's why you're not actors, you're only reviewers.
You clearly don't get what I'm trying to do
So the hell with you, Schwarzbaum, and Tommy Shales, too.
And McDonough and Brownfield and haters like that
If I find you, I'll sit on you, then you'll be flat.
Posted by ka at 11:29 PM
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