During a micro miniburst of intellectuality, I pondered why everybody wants.
Nobody’s content.
Everybody wants something. While my editor wants this incredibly brilliant column I’m writing finished an hour earlier and her managing editor wants this edited two hours earlier, there exist others with their own individual wants.
The Baltimore Orioles want the Yankees. The New York Yankees want a pennant. The Boston Red Sox want a team.
That lulu Lindsay lala Lohan? A parent. Paris Hilton? A career. Streisand? Only her right profile photographed. This being her fifth final finished absolutely the last over and out eternal appearance forever, I want to know is this finally Barbra’s setintone final farewell? The woman’s waved goodbye more often than Newt Gingrich.
Speaking of Newt, who knows what itches the latest Mrs. Gingrich? What she should want is a hoe to part that hair.
Barry Hussein Obama just wants. Biden is in want. New Jersey wants a little respect.
Gaga? A porkchop skirt. Mr. Madoff? A room with a view. Mr. President? A point of view. The “Today” show’s previous cohost? Changing NBC to Never Belittle Curry.
Take Schwarzenegger. I mean, please. With him it’s not what. This we know. It’s who. And how available. And how often. And can she keep her mouth shut. And if she also vacuums and cleans, nice.
Oprah? An audience. Couric? A rating. CNN? A network. Geithner? A new job. A mouse wants the cheese. A cat wants the mouse. A dog wants the cat. A kid wants the dog.
A mom wants the dog trained. Her motherinlaw wants a fight. American Airlines? Fix its seats, and everybody leave them alone.
The Rockettes? We should all buy seats to Radio City’s Christmas show.
Gov. Christie? A club sandwich, double on the bacon, extra on the mayo, heavy on the provolone, another slab of ham, shove the lettuce.
Contentment is only a word inWebster. A file clerk wants a part in a play. A freelancer wants a byline. My singer friend wants another agent.
Celebrities have custom tailored wants. Jennifer Aniston wants a husband. Brad wants Angelina. Keira Knightley wants not to look like Natalie Portman. Prince Harry wants pix with his drawers on. Mrs. Prince William wants pix with her drawers on. Sister Pippa wants pix with or without her drawers.
What Hillary wants, who knows?
Shirley MacLaine wants to learn what she did 300 years ago.
Audiences want to understand what that semiScientology flick “The Master” is all about. Mariah Carey wants a Nicki Minaj dartboard. Russell Brand continuously constantly wants it. Al Gore, divorcing Tipper after a lifetime, has a need for different.
I’m clear on what Lance Armstrong is wanting. A smack. Not the kind with a syringe. The kind with a flat hand.
Rye Playland wants, please, to be left alone.
You’re heavy? Go horseback riding, and the horse loses 30 pounds? America — where half our income goes for food, the other half for diets. Have to let out your garment bag? Wear stretch jewelry?
ObamaCare lists you for group rates? Sit on a bar stool, and it gets a hangover? What you want is a dinner invite with someone else picking up the tab.
Since Derek Jeter unloaded his apartment for $15 mil, this little piggy may want a piggy bank. Forget the want — what Big Bird needs is a lawyer.
What the Oscars need is a producer, a director and a raison d’etre. What Comptroller John Liu wants, whothehell knows? What he needs is a life — and to get out of ours.
LaToya, Jermaine, Janet, Rebbe, Tito, Mommy and Daddy Jackson wantMichael’s money. Plain old cash. Doesn’t even have to be giftwrapped.
Hardcore wanters know it’s important to stay sober. The difference between a pig and a fox is four drinks.
Not only is it the upper crust demanding. The lower crust is, too. A dude accosted a man on a dark street with: “You got a black belt in karate?” Told, “No,” the dude said: “Good. In that case this is a stickup.”
A hooker’s hunting a john. A john’s hunting a Jane. A union wants less hours. A boss wants more givebacks. A secretary wants more air, more windows, more money, more bathroom breaks, more days off. More Tic Tacs for her superior.
Even felons have requirements. This prisoner told his cellmate: “I’m going to study, be in the library, read books, attend lectures, improve myself — and while you’re still a common thief, I’ll rise up to be an embezzler.”
Do not want for too many things. Do not have I strain. Remember, conceit is God’s gift to little people.
With few marriages, there are still many divorces. Which at least satisfies an attorney’s want. Divorce is the price men pay for sex. Sex is the price women pay for marriage.
So, remember, no matter who you personally want in this coming election, always
possible he may be such a lamebrain, he’ll wear an orthopaedic hat.