Well, no shit that the office rock crits have been obsessing over MTV's new I'm From Rolling Stone for months now. I mean, you see how dipshit we get over crap like American Idol. Now that someone was desperate enough to gamble on a reality show about rock criticism -- that yawn you hear is the rest of the world not giving a fuck -- we're totally gonna enjoy it while it lasts.
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It's 6:30 a.m. and my six year old daughter is shaking me out of bed. "Where's Camille leaving to?" she says. I have no idea how she knows Camille is going anywhere. Maybe she read the Great Scott calendar like everyone else.
She got a job in New York, I yawn.
"She's moving away to go work there?"