So Long, Andy Rooney

60 Minutes’ dinosaur curmudgeon Andy Rooney is arguably the internet’s favorite dinosaur curmudgeon. For over thirty years he’s been delivering 2 minutes riffs about the random whateverness that was on his mind, grumpily and hilariously (His remarks on the death of Kurt Cobain may be the most Andy Rooney thing ever). But over the last couple of years he’s gone been missing from some 60 Minutes broadcasts, leading some to believe that the job — which on the face of it seems like one of the best and easiest in the world — was becoming too much for him as he advanced into his 90s. And now come news that he’s retiring, which to me signals that he is either near death or that dementia is setting in.

Andy Rooney will announce on this Sunday’s “60 Minutes” that it will be his last regular appearance on the broadcast. Rooney, 92, has been featured on “60 Minutes” since 1978.

He will make the announcement in his regular essay at the end of the program, his 1097th original essay for “60 Minutes”. It will be preceded by a segment in which Rooney looks back on his career in an interview with Morley Safer.

With his distinct cadence and delivery, Rooney made for great fodder for internet muckrakers like myself. On my old, neglected personal blog I’d occasionally compose an essay on a burning issue of the day in the voice of Andy Rooney. It was so fun to do! Here’s one I did on sleeping with hookers around the time of the Eliot Spitzer scandal.

I’ve been thinking about hookers a lot lately. Probably because of this whole Eliot Spitzer mess. It seems to me that nailing a hooker these days is more complicated than advanced algebra. In the first place, if you want to find a hooker, there are all those ads in the back of weekly newspapers to filter through. There are ads for Asian hookers, Russian hookers, black hookers, barely legal hookers, heavily tattooed hookers, S&M hookers…it’s all so confusing, not to mention having to worry about whether or not the number you’re calling to order the hooker is being wire-tapped. Back when I was Spitzer’s age, you just walked into the local flophouse and you took whatever hole was available. Or you could always venture down to Times Square and find one on the corner. You certainly can’t do that any longer. We can all thank Rudy Giuliani for that.

And since when does buying condoms require a slide ruler? Does the world really need flavored condoms, textured condoms, vibrating condoms, candy-colored condoms, micro-thin condoms, or condoms with Jackson Pollock patterns on them? I think not. Back in the day, the only option was lamb skin, and that was just fine by me. Heck, you didn’t even really need a condom to nail a hooker back then. There really wasn’t anything to fear catching that a shot of penicillin couldn’t cure. Condoms take all the fun out of hooker-nailing. Nailing a hooker with a condom is kind of like dining at a steakhouse without use of your olfactory senses.

And enough already with the pubic hair grooming. Back in my day there wasn’t any variation in how a hooker let her garden grow. There was no triangle, pyramid, or landing strip, much less the shiny Yul Brenner look. There was just bush. Big, bold, thick, stinking bush. Like my eyebrows.

It’s all so confusing. Aw, to heck with it. I’ll just stay home and jack off.

And, of course, there’s the Andy Rooney game. What’s that, you ask? Well it is/was a game YouTubers play in which you take an Andy Rooney monologue and reduce it to its first and last sentence. Here are a few of my favorites…

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