We're living in confusing times, thus it becomes necessary to identify truth and deception. We need to call out those people and institutions that we're on to.
You know the rules. It's not a condemnation exactly, more just a statement that while these folks/things/ideas might have other people fooled, they DON'T HAVE YOU FOOLED. You are on to them.
For further research, see:
Okay, I admit this was all prompted today by hearing a Lily Allen song.
I am on to you, Lily Allen.
I'm on to you, Raisin Bran Extra. Yogurty clusters? Come on. Go check in with Raisin Bran Crunch on how to be a proper RB progeny.
I'm on to you He's Just Not That Into You. And I'm a little exhausted from that sentence.
I'm on to you, Apple, with your new proprietary headphones. Not. Fooled.
I'm on to you, Triscuits.
And you, Morning Glory Muffins.
Took me a while, The Strokes, but you have been found out. I'm on to you.
Icy sidewalks? I'm on to you too. Not that you care.
Everyone's on to you, minus 6 degrees in mid-March. Not that you care.
I wish I could say I'm on to you, Michael Steele, but I've totally lost the trail. I have no idea where you're going.
So. Your turn. Go!
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I'm on to you young twee pop practitioners.
I'm on to your winsome nostalgia for a childhood you left behind you, like, essentially last week.
I'm on to your glockenspiel too.
I am also on to teen products being marketed to children to create a strange new demographic just to sell stuff to. Tweens my left foot, I am so onto you.
Oh, and apparently kind of cranky about it too...
I am on to you, "food" in the isles of the grocery stores that my grandma would not recognize.
I feel I should be on to tweed, just to continue the pattern, but I'm afraid tweed still has me baffled.
I'm on to you sunny days, in winter. You're beautiful, but oh so cold.
I'm on to you, John Moe, and your being on to young British women singers.
I'm on to you, "thermostat". You couldn't heat your way out of a paper bag.
And also you, poorly-designed websites targeted towards women and/or mothers, which are really just ad revenue cashcows. You insult my intelligence.
I'm on to you Dora The Explorer. You're just nosy.
Curious George, however, is truly inquisitive.
I'm on to you Costco Blueberry muffins - you will not fool me again with your 640 calories worth of fat-laden deliciousness.
Seriously? 640 calories in one muffin? I was aparently not onto Costco muffins, but now I am.
I'm on to you, "brief therapy."
I am on to you, the term "Alt Country". How can such great music have such a terrible genre name.
I am on to you, Facebook "What am I doing now". Unless you say you writing in the Facebook "What am I doing now" you are not being truthful.
I am SO onto you creepy Comcast Ad with the Moldy Peaches ripoff soundtrack and live people walking around that Second Life-esque neighborhood.
You want to sell stuff a la Second Life? Keep it in Second Life with your avatars and chat balloons.
You, too Rachel Maddow / MSNBC lovers who refuse to acknowledge your similarities to Rush Limbaugh's Dittoheads & Ann Coulter's Food Haters.
Homeschoolers? Don't get me started...
Ugh, I am SO on to you "bedtime routine." Srsly. My kids are on to you too, and none of us is buying it.
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