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OP-ED: If I'm Not Going To Watch Fox News Shirtless In My Floor Lounge, Who Will?


Photo Credit // Miles Meola

I sat, shirtless, enthralled by the TV, with a paste consisting of ice cream residue, Cheez-it crumbs, and donut glaze forming in that little dip at the bottom of my sternum. Maybe it’s called my chest cavity? Not sure, but if I were to stick my finger in the paste it would have probably covered about one-half of my fingernail. Hope that conveys what I mean. 

Now, typically I reserve my shirtless TV time for Sesame Street on Saturday mornings. Not because that’s when the new episodes air - the new episodes fucking suck - but because that’s when I find it most relaxing to learn about Sesame Street. Such a good show, god damn. Woke media has since flushed it down the toilet, it now resembles shows such as Peppa Pig and Paw Patrol, which suck, but I access older episodes on Hulu. Sue me.

Anyways, this shirtless TV time was different. I was not watching Sesame Street, and it was not a Saturday morning. It was a Wednesday afternoon that stretched into the evening, and I was watching “Your World,” “The Five,” “Special Report,” “Jesse Watters Primetime,” and, of course, “Tucker Carlson Tonight.” 

My friends on the TV were somewhat concerned with the state of the US House of Representatives. It seemed that their friend Kevin McCarthy was not getting the necessary amount of votes from his peers in the House to be elected Speaker of the House. It was pretty crazy, unprecedented, even, in modern times. I found this to be utterly mesmerizing, and I continued to sit. I really just threw away my entire Wednesday, and that night I dreamt exclusively of Tucker. 

When I awoke the next morning, nothing had changed. Well, Kevin was looking more and more like a loser dickhead, but nothing in my life had changed that much. I still had some Cheez-its left, and my TV pals were still discussing this catastrophe. So, I sat. And as I sat, adding new layers to the chest paste, chuckling at the TV and checking twitter, I wondered: who, if not me, will treat the floor lounge in such a way? Who else, if not I, will respectfully caress the TV as they connect their computer to it? Who will find a way to make the couch comfortable, against all odds, by bringing a blanket in from their own room? Who?