Andy Rooney

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Up next, The Amazing Race, Season 19 kicks off. But first, here's A Few Minutes or So with Andy Rooney.

I was at the grocery store the other day looking for a new computer to replace my Commodore. I've never been a fan of computers. They always try to tell me that the word "premiere" is spelled with three Es. But since I do so much writing, I need a new electric typewriter to keep me occupied while I do my real writing on paper. I can't think of anything simpler than my ink pen and a clean sheet of white, unlined paper. I find that writing on lined paper feels a bit like cheating when we all can, or should be able to, write on white paper.

I have no idea how these magazines got onto my desk.

Now some of you may be calling me a racist and a bigot for using the term "white paper" or for saying that homosexual behavior is unhealthy and leads to a quick death. While that may be true, I want for you all to know that there is no better way to prevent a cold than murdering your neighbors and stealing their cough medicine. This may initially seem controversial to some, and rightly so. Why can't I just go and buy my own cough medicine?

I'll tell you why: the grocery store is just too confusing. I've never been able to stay in the grocery store for more than twelve minutes. I usually find myself in tears by then, dazed by the rows and rows of cans. There are too many foods that come in cans these days. If a food is good enough to be eaten outside of a can, it shouldn't be put into a can in the first place. Just eat it at the factory. It's only a matter of time before paper and pens and computers will be put in cans. I really do not like cans.

Until then, I'll keep my pen and paper outside of a can and on my desk.

I've never seen too much of a need to leave this desk right here. The outside world is so different to what it used to be. People are always in such a hurry. They never want to take three minutes or so to listen to me talk about trivial nonsense that no one else can even follow.[1] That is not my fault, because I am not an actor. I am a writer who appears on television, or at least that's what I'm told. And by that, I mean that I am told that I am on television.

And now, they're gone. Plus, these are not the clothes I was wearing ten minutes ago. Now, I know I'm not crazeee!.

I am also told that my habit of erratically switching between topics at no particular rhythm is enjoyed by all and is not at all confusing to my viewers. [2] It is also, apparently, incredibly appreciated by CBS and its handsome executives. What else would explain my continued appearance on this network, as brief and hidden as it may be? Couple this with any lingering rumors of my journalistic credibility and you have my segment.

Perhaps returning to the topics that I touched upon earlier in this segment would make my segment even more confusing and more difficult for people to satirize and reduce to a disrespectful series of non sequiturs. I have stood by my previous statement that Kurt Cobain's death was his own fault and that giving him any attention as a result of his suicide is merely playing into his attention-getting scheme. I don't understand why young people are making such a big deal about this, or why they are crying in the streets just because some drug addicted, clinically depressed rock star decided to shoot himself. I don't understand why young people do many of the things that they do.

At the grocery store, there is a young gentleman working there who happened to touch my hand when we reached for the same bag of plums. I had the man fired after I publically humiliated him in the store. I eat a plum everyday; I attribute the fact that I am still alive and still as insane as ever to plums. However, homosexuals are putting themselves at risk by continuing their immoral and unhealthy lifestyle. I have no problem saying this on television and then writing a hateful letter to a gay person I’ve never met, only to follow that up with a public apology after I am inexplicably brought back to this fine network once again after a short time-out.

I apologize if I still sound a little stuffy tonight. I am still suffering from a slight head cold. I went to take some cough syrup earlier before the show. As I pulled the garden hoe out of my neighbor’s skull, I realized that his children were crouched by the staircase with faces as white as death. Children are the future of this great nation. I think children are the best kinds of people. Not young people, who love nothing more than to mouth off to their parents after having sexual intercourse with a man that is not their husband. Children are the closest people to senior citizens such as me. Both have narrow views of the world, have no filter over what comes out of their mouths, and neither senior nor child ever feels any remorse for passing gas in a public place.

No, I am not stealing this car. I just lost my keys...and my car. I work for CBS, I can break into this car if I want.

I encountered a small child while in the grains and cereals aisle at the grocery store. He must have been curious about who had been passing gas throughout the store and had followed the smell back to me. Or perhaps he just wanted the box of Trix cereal that he had picked up and was now walking back to his mother’s cart. As I carried the child back to my cart, I realized that the Trix rabbit is a dangerous criminal role model in the cereal world. Anyone who advocates stealing from children should not be an advertisement.[3] Perhaps if he made more responsible choices, he would end up ascending to the rank of captain, like Cap'n Crunch.

Some of you may be wondering why I decided to kidnap a small child in plain view of his mother. Others may be wondering why CBS continues to allow me to remain on their network, condoning child theft, murder, and public flatulence. I think that the latter is a privilege earned by years of experience and being absolutely out of my mind. Violating social law is my right as an American citizen and I stand by it. And apparently, it is CBS’s right to allow me to embarrass myself on their network at their pleasure. This is called ‘executive privilege.’ And this *holds up child* is called Andy Rooney Jr. You will be seeing much more of him when he stops kicking me in the shin every time I try to feed him ink toner.

And now, The Amazing Race season premiere! Only on CBS.


  1. It is a mere coincidence that "three minutes or so" is just about as long as I can stand to listen to anyone else speak. I could listen to myself talk for hours, but that is because I am not one of these yuppies buying astronaut yogurt to go eat on a skateboard on my way to band practice.
  2. Oh, I'm sorry. I mean 60 Minutes' viewers.
  3. However, stealing children is perfectly acceptable and condonable by prominent journalistic figures such as myself.


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