You know what else makes me sick? That a band dubbed LFO (that stands for "Lyte Funky Ones." Yes. Seriously) made a lot of money off that terribad song. If you don't know what I'm referring to, type the title of this entry into Google, and that should jog your memory. Or watch this cacophonous shitbomb:
But that's not the point of this entry. I have big news. While I hate the recently-departed Bush administration for all the liberties upon which they urinated, I think I've actually found conclusive evidence that what we do to prisoners in Guantanamo doesn't constitute torture.
My evidence? Any Abercrombie & Fitch store! Think about it: you walk in . . . your nostrils are assaulted by that Abercrombie eau de diarrhea-splattered toilette, your eardrums are berated by blaring house music, your pupils are stretched to the size of UFOs by the utter absence of light, and the staff members completely ignore your existence. Complete sensory deprivation. Isn't that exactly what the prisoners at Gitmo are complaining about? And yet, we (not I) go there of our own volition! So it can't be torture, right?! . . . Hmmm, although maybe it's that whole having-a-choice-in-the-matter thing.