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Having a boyfriend is embarrassing say Gen Z liberal women

Nov 2nd

Posted by Jann Scott in Jann Scott Live

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Here is the latest insanity from Gen Z liberal women. Having a boyfriend is embarrassing, According to Chante Joseph, who can’t get a boyfriend, she wrote in brattish Vouge ” women reclaiming and romanticizing their single life. “The Boyfriend Backlash: A Satirical Lament from Jann Scott By Jann Scott Oh, Vogue, you glossy harbinger of hemlines and heartbreak—how you’ve outdone yourself this time. Chanté Joseph’s latest screed, “Is Having a Boyfriend Embarrassing Now?”, dropped like a poorly timed thirst trap, and suddenly, every swipe-right survivor is clutching their pearls (or their solo brunch mimosas) in mock horror.

At 300 words of navel-gazing drivel, it’s less an article than a therapy session disguised as trend reporting. Joseph’s thesis? Boyfriends aren’t prizes anymore; they’re punchlines. Posting your man online? Cringe. Claiming partnership? Lame. Singlehood? The ultimate flex. Honey, if that’s progress, pass the popcorn—I’m here for the roast.
Picture this: Joseph, our intrepid cultural oracle, polls her gal pals (all suspiciously coupled-up, mind you) and uncovers the “scandal.” Women are cropping boyfriends out of pics like they’re exes in a revenge edit. Why?
Because men “embarrass you even 12 years in,” apparently. One source laments losing followers after a “hard-launch” post—gasp!—as if Instagram validation were the Nobel Prize for romance. Joseph nods sagely: We’ve escaped “Boyfriend Land,” that patriarchal purgatory where women’s worth hinged on wifey status. Now, love’s a guilty pleasure, akin to admitting you still own a DVD collection. TikTok erupts in stitches: #EmbarrassingBoyfriend trends, with memes of dudes as aura-sucking vampires. Men? Outraged, per TMZ—poor dears, reduced to footnotes in their own irrelevance.
But let’s dissect the stupidity. This isn’t empowerment; it’s performative misery. Joseph’s straddle-the-fence schtick—reap couple perks, but ghost the label—reeks of the very indecision she mocks. It’s not “reclaiming single life”; it’s FOMO wrapped in faux-feminism.
Remember when Vogue championed glamour? Now it’s peddling paranoia: Date at your peril, lest you seem “culturally loser-ish.” Newsflash, Chanté: Relationships aren’t embarrassing; hiding them is. The real lame flex? Writing 300 words to pathologize partnership while your interviewees whisper sweet nothings off-camera.
In a world of ghosting and gridlock, love’s the rebel act. Boyfriends aren’t passé; your hot take is. Single and savage? Fine. But shaming the coupled? That’s just bitter scroll envy. Vogue, next time, feature a man who remembers anniversaries. We’d all sleep better.

Trump’s Late-Night Wrecking Ball; Jann Scott Live

Nov 2nd

Posted by Jann Scott in Jann Scott Live

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November 2, 2025 by Jann Scott
If you pick a fight with Donald J. Trump, pack a body bag. He doesn’t slap back—he obliterates. Just ask Stephen Colbert, Jimmy Kimmell, and now Seth Meyers, the latest casualties in Trump’s one-man demolition derby.
I watched Colbert smirk about Trump’s “crowd sizes” while he got thrown off the air. Trump? One Truth Social post—“boring,” “no talent,” “ratings in the toilet.” Boom.  Corbert’s comeback was a lecture on “civility.” Civility doesn’t save sinking ships, Then Kimmell mocked Trump’s McDonald’s runs. Trump dropped a photo of Kimmel’s designer shoes next to a Happy Meal, captioned “Jimmy’s real prize.” The internet lost its mind. Kimmell cried “bully” on air. Buddy, Trump’s playing WWE; you brought a pool noodle.
Now Set Meyers, bland as unsalted crackers, tried a “small hands” jab. Trump countered with a supercut of Meyers bombing jokes, set to circus music. Meyers’ ratings? Cratered. His show’s now appointment viewing for insomniacs and their cats.
Listen up, late-night lightweights: I’ve seen Trump turn punchlines into punch-outs. He doesn’t debate—he devastates. Keep poking the bear, and you’ll be the joke nobody laughs at. Me? I’ll stay in my lane, cracking wise without waking the beast. Smart hosts survive. Dumb ones get Trumped.

The Day I spent with Robert Redford in Boulder

Sep 16th

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It was the early ’90s, and I’d just finished Philip: The Life and Death of a Homeless Person, a 30-minute documentary about a guy who lived under bridges along Boulder’s bike paths, scarred by Vietnam and cut off from family.
I’d filmed him for months until he died one summer night under a bridge. Shot on high 8 video tape and edited on those old decks in my condo living room suite, it was raw and real. The film won a national public access award for best documentary, a yearly honor for low-budget work that lands a punch.

Robert Redford, with his University of Colorado and Boulder roots, got hold of it through some connection. He wrote to me in a hand written letter, said it hit him hard, and invited me to his place to talk about editing it for a Sundance submission, offering his team’s help. I spent a day with him near Boulder—nothing fancy, just a comfortable spot with a view of the Flatirons. We sat in his study, surrounded by books and film scripts, sipping coffee. He was direct, no Hollywood ego, just a guy who cared about stories. He pushed me to tighten the doc’s pacing, maybe trim a few scenes to make Philip’s story hit even harder. “You’ve got something here,” he said. “Sundance could amplify it.” I nodded, but deep down, I knew I wouldn’t follow through—too buried in radio gigs at KNUS when it was still liberal, hosting on Channel 54, and hustling to pay bills.

We got to talking about Boulder, swapping stories about mutual CU friends and old haunts like the Sink or the Hill from his student days in the ’50s. I mentioned how the town was shifting, tech money creeping in; he reminisced about skiing Eldora. It felt like catching up with an old pal, except he was Redford.

The conversation turned to the Thayne Smika case. Redford was pissed about how the Boulder DA’s office botched it. In 1983, Smika shot and killed Sid Wells, a CU student dating Redford’s daughter Shauna, in Wells’ condo on the Hill over a drug and money dispute. Smika, his roommate, was the clear suspect, but DA Alex Hunter claimed the evidence wasn’t enough. They arrested Smika, then let him go. He’s been a fugitive ever since, wanted by the FBI for murder. Redford had been funding investigators and speaking out, saying Sid and Shauna deserved justice, and Boulder’s system failed them. His frustration was palpable, his voice low and intense.

I’d covered similar stories on Channel 54 which is now long gone like Philip’s. That day with Redford stuck with me, but the Sundance edit never happened. I’m still in Boulder, making docs and hosting shows, telling the stories that need telling on You tube and X

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