Mandy Moore Blessed The Rain Down In Africa

At the moment, I have a couple of friends over in Africa, doing nice white-person work for the starving filthy masses over there. One of them is set up in a posh Christian Missions-For-Teens setup where the townspeople, in general, have learned the necessities of proper sanitation. The other friend is not so lucky, and while the locals are more than happy to help her find a spot off in the forest to leave her diaper deposits, they seek no such luxury for themselves, often dropping trow (or loincloth or whatever) in the middle of the street, much like a horse would do if you've ever gone horseback riding. I mean yeah that's disgusting but you've got to understand that it's tough explaining to these people that their delicious-looking booty chocolate is filled with nasty enteric critters that are the source of a lot of their health issues (they probably assume it's the total lack of dietary sufficiency. pshaw!). Even if they do speak French, and probably even because of that fact.

So all this gets me thinking about Mandy Moore and I've decided that if anyone can get the people of rural Africa to start paying attention to basic sanitation laws, it's Mandy Moore - the voice of the sufferers the world over. I mean, a lot of people got with Brittney or Jessica Simpson or what-not, but now look at those two - trashed out filthy rednecks, looking for their next fix, dating Dane Cook and what-not, with a huge portion of our cultural heritage now stained by their total lack of self-discipline. Mandy Moore however has never tried to take the world by storm, never forced her reproachful music upon unwitting ears, never sacrificed her all-around class for the sake of a painted body-suit and a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. She has conquered, not through talent or hotness, but by sheer perseverence and the force of her infectious and girl-next-door personality. Oh and also being the most beautiful and stunning woman to ever walk the face of the earth. But mostly perseverence!

So I figure the day will come when Mandy and I make it official. I mean, eventually she's going to need a Doctor right? She's gonna get old. She's gonna need some lasix or something, and I'm gonna find a way to be there. The progression of Mandy Moore's love affairs will spread in this order: Andy Roddick --> Zach Braff --> Dr. Special K. I mean, you can see the trajectory right? From hottest tennis player on earth to likeably geeky tv doctor to likeably geeky REAL-LIFE doctor who also plays tennis and will, at times, take off his shirt while doing so.

So as you can see, we're destined. That being said, I feel fairly certain I can make the claim that with my direct approach to the health care needs of the indigent peoples, and with my Betrothed's help answering the lower-class hygeine problems, you no longer need to worry about Africa. You can go ahead and send my friends back home, where we have wonderful television shows, and people can afford to waste millions of dollars on movies like "Try Seventeen" and "How To Deal" instead of hording every penny to spend on grain. Relax, turn on some Toto, eat a big fat burger, and do your civic duty by forgetting to vote for one of two identical candidates. Get back to ignoring the rest of the world (except Mexico, keep them foreigners OUT) - it's the American way!