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3 Things Andy Rooney Can Do Now That He’s Leaving 60 Minutes



For those that don’t know, Andy Rooney is a talking head on the number one rated show among people dying in hospices, 60 Minutes. He doesn’t do much of anything on the show other than use the two or three minutes the show’s producers are contractually obligated to set aside for him at the end of every episode to ramble and complain like the withering old coot he looks like.  It sounds terrible, and it usually is, but it’s extremely entertaining. If you ever wanted to see someone that perfectly embodied the stereotype of the crazy old guy in the neighborhood that sits on his porch screaming about how he doesn’t understand Nintendos and Emails and Twitters, Andy Rooney is the place to go for all your crazy old man needs. He’s the closest thing to the old man from Up that is legally allowed on television.

Well, he was.

At the tender age of 92, Andy Rooney is calling it quits. No longer will we young folk be able to watch a long Sunday of football on CBS and chase it down with an old man’s diatribes about how the modern world frightens him.

Clearly, this is sad news for all of us. But we don’t want to see Andy leave. So we compiled this list of things Andy can do without strictly adhering to the editorial structure of 60 Minutes.

Complaining About Fruit At The Grocery Store

Red_Delicious Apple

“Remember when you would go to the apple section and all the apples were red? Me too. But nowadays, there’s all these green apples sitting next to the red ones. Why are we mixing the apples? Isn’t anyone worried about cross-apple species contamination? It used to be that the red apples were front and center, because everyone wanted a shiny red apple. And the bastard green apples were kept in the back of the store, where they were easily accessible for the chinks and spooks that were only allowed to enter the store through the labyrinthine underground maintenance shafts beneath the floors of your local grocer. I’ll tell’ya, those were the days. This is Andy Rooney for red apples, signing off.”

Teaching A Sex Ed. Class

Sex Ed Class

“I remember when a lady of the night first explained to me the wonders of this position called “Doggy”. At first I was taken aback – I had paid to have sex with a woman, not a Fido. But then, after a few minutes of courteous and patient explanation, I was railing her from behind six ways from Sunday with her brown starfish winking at me with every thrust. But today there are all sorts of positions and I just don’t have the time to learn them all. I don’t know what a fisting is, but it sounds exhausting. And I don’t have the time or the energy to learn to play a trombone. Besides, I don’t want to have to spend countless hours going from one used instrument store to another just to find a rusty trombone. Can’t I just plow you and be done with it? This is Andy Rooney for raw dogging, signing off.”

Becoming One of Those Screaming Ex-Cons on Scared Straight

Scared Straight

“Back in ’59, me and Morley Safer went down to Cuba for a bit of R-and-R — Rimjobs and Rum drinks. After getting in to an altercation with Fidel Castro’s personal sugar cane farmer, Fidel assured us we would never see anything more than our prison cell walls for the rest of our lives. At least I think that’s what he said. He could have been talking about baseball for all I know. I’ll tell’ya, the dialect of English those Cubans call ‘spanish’ sounds like a disgusting, bastardized, pig-f*cked version of English – completely unrecognizable.

“Anyway, me and Morley spent the following 3 ½ months fending off street beggars, sex perverts, gays, rapers, and Batista sympathizers from within the prison walls, with only our fierce male instincts keeping us alive. And our shivs, which we fashioned out of belt buckles and dried mud patties. Forty-seven imprisoned villains died by our hands in those 3 ½ months, and our anuses remained as tight as a drum and as un-battered as a cake that hasn’t been made yet.”

“In 2008, a group of Hollywood-types turned our story in to a major motion picture called Morley and Me. The film was filled with symbolism and metaphor and semiotics. The Owen Wilson character represented the prison, and, of course, Morley Safer and I were condensed in to one character, the dog. It was a turd. They got none of the facts right, other than that one scene were the dog spills the Kibble all over the floor and eats it. That was exactly what Fidel’s forces made Morley and Me do on day 3 of our imprisonment. We killed them a scant 3 days later. This is Andy Rooney for Not Taking Commie Bullshit, signing off.”


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