We all love Andy Rooney. That’s a given. And we’ve all watched and noted, in recent years, that Andy Rooney seems to have, either due to advanced age or simply a dearth of annoying things in the world, begun to phone it in (no doubt on one of those new-fangled tiny phones). He’s very old, and that’s his right. Andy’s segment is as entertaining as ever, it’s just gradually morphed into another form of entertainment. But all that said, last night’s segment, ostensibly about the calendar (yep, just “the calendar”) went off the fucking rails into complete absurdity. I’m sorry, but this is it, this is the moment. It wasn’t “watches” or “umbrellas” or “stupid gifts sent to me by my stupid fans.” Nope, it’s “the calendar,” or as I like to call it “fill two minutes with sentences, any sentences.” Oh, Andy. I’m sorry:
It’s still entertaining, though, but more in a “Can you believe he’s still talking??” kind of way. It’s like an elementary school book report when all you have to say about the book is “It was fine.” We need, as a culture, to come up with some more ridiculous and/or inconvenient things for Andy to complain about. Can someone please introduce him to Twitter?