Avitable Interviews Dead Celebrities

My Interview with Andy Rooney

Andy Rooney

Andy Rooney, nonagenarian curmudgeon, died over the weekend at the age of 92. I sat down for a posthumous interview with him:

Me: So, Mr. Rooney . . .

AR: Please, call me Mr. Rooney.

Me: I wanted to just say that while I was sorry to hear of your passing, people live too long in today’s society. With Social Security on the decline, population exploding, and our economy deteriorating, it’s high time that our senior citizens look at themselves and realize that they are a drain on resources.

AR: You’re correct. Where some people may see loving grandparents, I see a pair of feckless boobs who can’t drive, take way too long to shop, and don’t even have the most basic grasps on the new technology. As a staunch supporter of the principles of Darwinism, I think that advances in modern medicine are starting to overrule the survival of the fittest, and it’s to our detriment.

Me: Exactly! Why, the other day, I saw a story on the news about an 85-year old woman who managed to renew her driver’s license even though she was legally blind! Is this where our society is? That we’ve reached such a state of ennui that nobody cares about blind women driving?

AR: For my money, I think that an annual deathmatch between all citizens over the age of 70 could solve several of our national crises. From the financial burden of keeping one’s great-grandfather in bourbon and diapers to the emotional depression knowing that one will never have the character and inner strength of one’s elder relatives, Joe Q. Public would benefit from a significant reduction in elderly force.

Me: And what about that Pokemon nonsense?

AR: In my day, if a child spent all of his time collecting cards with strangely-garbed characters on them, he was whipped with a belt for the first offense, put in a closet for the second offense, and sent to the wood chipper for the third.

Me: Twilight?

AR: My problem with these books has nothing to do with the existence of vampires and werewolves. As anyone with a brain knows, they do exist, but only in the darkest caves of Latvia, surrounded by some of the homeliest people I have ever laid eyes on. Even if I were willing to suspend my disbelief that there were supernatural creatures living in Washington State, the quality of the writing makes me weep for days past when teachers actually disciplined their students for shoddy sentence structure and terrible metaphors.

Me: And bacon!

AR: Bacon is clearly a food made by the Nazis to fatten up Americans. It has no nutritional value, is full of fat, sodium, and nitrates, and is a pathetic type of consumable made from the noblest of creatures.

Me: Daylight Savings Time?

AR: An instrument of the Illuminati to keep the world confused, eliminating any real power from the vox populi.

Me: Online dating?

AR: If you get murdered because you go on a date with someone you met on the Internet, you probably deserved it.

Me: Naps?

AR: Acceptable for infants and the infirm. Otherwise, naps are for pansies only.

Me: 3D movies?

AR: Life is three-dimensional. Movies are for fatties who like popcorn.

Me: Texting?

AR: Another way to be antisocial and showcase one’s stupidity.

Me: Oprah?

AR: Why do all black people have weird names?

Me: Kim Kardashian?

AR: Class is not a 4-letter word.

Me: Bowling?

AR: Blue-collar idiot sport.

Me: Los Angeles?

AR: Hell on Earth.

Me: The iPhone?

AR: Stupid.

Me: Eyebrow trimming?

AR: Never!

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31 thoughts on “My Interview with Andy Rooney”

  1. Your accuracy is somewhat alarming and simultaneously comforting. I attribute much of my sense of humor to watching Andy Rooney on 60 Minutes throughout my childhood. My parents thought they were helping me learn about world events. I was there for the dry wit and sarcasm.

    God bless you both.

  2. I love this – the veracity of which is attested to by the fact that I heard HIS voice in the responses – you certainly picked up on his speech mannerisms.

    As for Mr. Rooney – Heaven or not – I hope he can get that lip fixed.

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