Mo Rocca 180
I have a confession: I am in love. Hes a strange little man, with a bit of a lisp, floppy black hair, over sized, not-quite-hip glasses, and amazing stage presence. No, its not you, Byron. It's Mo, Mo Rocca. Maurice Alberto Rocca, has been a bit of an obsession for the better part of...a decade? No, that can't be true. It all started with my adolescent love of Pepper Anne (a great cartoon, if I do say so, moi meme), and the meandered left, or more accurately, became more "housemotherly" on VH1, when he became a commentator for I <3 the 80s, though his thunder was stolen by a (very sexy) Michael Ian Black. He remained on VH1 for I <3 toys, and other things that I apparently <3, and then moved to some "Daily Show with Jon Stewart" before he settled on his blog and Wait Wait Don't Tell Me.
Now, the moment of conflict. Mo Rocca's affiliation with AOL. Okay, first of all, who uses AOL anymore? Adam's mom? My grandpa? People who wouldn't, under most circumstances, read the wise and witty prose of Mo (I can call him Mo, right? We're pretty close. Sorry, AK. R is a wonderful woman, but I doubt she cares what the snark-meister has to say).
Not to sound like Peter Griffin, but that really grinds my gears. To what extent does AOL Time Warner pay attention to what he writes? Are they censoring it? Do they care? Who is he speaking to since gen Y have, ahem, moved on? Why is AOL sponsoring him, and why can't he afford a god-damned URL of his own? Max (another important man in my life. Real friendship, not fictional like that with Mo) writes a blog for his college. He and I had a long discussion about the literary liberties he is given as an ambassador to the world at large. Obie lets him do whatever. I think that's great, yet I am wary of the company that enabled my quick typing to grant the same. So, I implore you, Mo, buy your own damned site. I know you're reading this.
Lastly, Mo looks like my friend of jeunesse, Rafa. Check it! Maybe that's why I'm into Mo. He reminds me of my childhood. I need a job.
Mo:
Rafa: 
. Okay, it's been a while since I've hung out with Rafa. Perhaps they aren't doppelgangers. Ciao.
Now, the moment of conflict. Mo Rocca's affiliation with AOL. Okay, first of all, who uses AOL anymore? Adam's mom? My grandpa? People who wouldn't, under most circumstances, read the wise and witty prose of Mo (I can call him Mo, right? We're pretty close. Sorry, AK. R is a wonderful woman, but I doubt she cares what the snark-meister has to say).
Not to sound like Peter Griffin, but that really grinds my gears. To what extent does AOL Time Warner pay attention to what he writes? Are they censoring it? Do they care? Who is he speaking to since gen Y have, ahem, moved on? Why is AOL sponsoring him, and why can't he afford a god-damned URL of his own? Max (another important man in my life. Real friendship, not fictional like that with Mo) writes a blog for his college. He and I had a long discussion about the literary liberties he is given as an ambassador to the world at large. Obie lets him do whatever. I think that's great, yet I am wary of the company that enabled my quick typing to grant the same. So, I implore you, Mo, buy your own damned site. I know you're reading this.
Lastly, Mo looks like my friend of jeunesse, Rafa. Check it! Maybe that's why I'm into Mo. He reminds me of my childhood. I need a job.
Mo:
Rafa: 
. Okay, it's been a while since I've hung out with Rafa. Perhaps they aren't doppelgangers. Ciao.
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