Donnie Johnson Strikes Again!

Out of all of the columnists at the Free Lance-Star, my favorite has to be Donnie Johnson:

Bottled water! I never thought I’d live to see the day. Within three decades, my generation went from lying naked in the grass and drinking from the same stream as pigs to wearing double-breasted suits, discussing their stock portfolios and sipping bottled water after every yuppie breath.

Talk about betraying your convictions! In the late 1960s, we didn’t trust water enough to bathe in it. Now we have become slaves to the stuff.

I keep waiting for my hippie friends to come to their senses, but instead their bottled-water highs just get more and more intense. Sadly, free love and free water seem to have gone the way of Western movies. And while I would like to see both of these pre-yuppie institutions make comebacks, I’m not holding my breath.

Well, if you can’t lick ’em, join ’em. I lost out on the bottled-water enterprise, but I think I’ve come up with the next great yuppie craze, and I hope to make a fortune from it.

Bottled air.

That’s right, bottled air! I know you’re out there laughing your heads off, but remember that I laughed when someone suggested bottled water. With a good advertising campaign, bottled air could be all the rage–bigger than raccoon coats in the 1920s, hula-hoops in the 1950s and long, greasy hair in the 1960s.

Now I think someone needs to thank the inventor of bottled air first before they go running off with the copyright. Anyone remember “Perri-air” from Spaceballs? I bet Mel Brooks will.

Hilarious.