Ok, here’s a quick way to cut the fat (and repair the economy):
Fire the politicians! ALL OF THEM!
Thank you and have a nice day. [No, you don’t need to pay me, I love my work. Thank you anyway.]
So big government is bad. Check.
POTUS is supposed to be creating jobs to revive the economy. Check.
Creating a big huge federal FDR style program to convert the dying automobile industry into an American High Speed Rail train producing system, and taking the trillions being spent overseas to protect our Asian border and using it to build a national network of high speed rail lines (along with revamping the American infrastructure, including de-suburbanizing the landscape) would be bad (=big government). Check.
Any government funded job creation would be more big government. Check.
How’s POTUS supposed to create these jobs?
Oh right, cut all taxes for the wealthy. Check. (Because this has been working so well since the Reagan administration…)
Nevermind… Moving on!
Whoops… I meant moving on!
Oops sorry, kinda stuck here. Gimme a sec…
Anyway, to refocus on the positive things going on these days, check this out:
Well, I can’t seem to find anything good going on out there, so pardon me while I make a little good of my own in this space:
Enjoy and stay positive!
Because taxing the rich is unacceptable. Just another thing that pisses me off.
Here’s another one: You may have heard this story in the media. Young boy killed by drunk, high driver (the destroyers of the universe even when they’re sober, don’t forget!) and the mother was facing a longer sentence than the drunk driver because she was jay walking. Damn that pisses me off. How do you give a drunk driver who kills someone (even if they were jaywalking) a six month sentence? Even if he killed no one there’s no excuse for drunk driving. Automobile dominated civil engineering and racism combined here to create what I find to be an infuriating situation. Thank goodness the judge spared this poor woman prison time.
While we’re on the subject of stupidity: WTF!?
A brief pause to address those of you who might sight the hypocrisy of calling out stupid while quoting from the NY Daily News: Shut up, please. It’s my easy reading paper of choice… and it’s free on my mobile device, whereas that other great NY paper whose name I can’t recall at the moment charges something like a dollar a day… I’m entitled to a free mobile paper!!!!! It’s 2011 for Chrissakes! I don’t want to pay for stuff like this is still the 2nd Millennium.
Besides, if the House Republicans continue their quest to legalize cannibalization of the poor by the rich, I’m going to need every cent I have to finance my survival. No money left over for charity, arts, being a good consumer, none of that stuff. I’d even like to see a general boycott of consumerism for at least three months, especially if these ass-clowns screw this budget thing up. Everybody just stop buying stuff. Let’s tank the economy in a stunning public economic suicide. Hoard every dollar you have. Damn, you have no idea how badly I’d like to see the entire capitalist consumerist corporate commercial just-keep-shopping-till-you’re-dead system just blast a giant, runny fart all over the khakis of the smug elite. Even if it hurt us all in the end, I’d still love to see it. Damn, you just have no idea…
Might actually be a good thing since we don’t produce sh*t anymore anyway. Might even close the trade imbalance since all the crap we’re buying is made somewhere else… Here’s something that isn’t relevant (or is it…)
Today’s post is a special one. One whose meaning I hope will not be lost on you, dear reader, as I explore some of the more profound chambers of the human soul. I will need you, dear reader, to stay focused with me as we venture into these dark and dusty rooms whose existence remains dubious to all who have never ventured into them. The ancient moldy mildew dusts everything in these chambers with a sepia hued shadow that threatens to reduce our memories of this visit to an ephemeral wisp of vision not unlike an astral dream sequence. Are you ready, dear reader? Here we go!
In Rome there lived a Senator. His name I can’t recall.
He lived his life enjoyably, like one big happy ball.
He left unto his children
the land bequeathed to him
and sure enough,
through rough and tough,
they held through thick and thin.
Passing from this amber arbor, we move slowly through the hall into the next chamber:
There lived a sad old witch’s child, whose name is long forgotten.
The witch’s view of everything was sadly sore and rotten.
And so when time to harvest came,
her herbs and newts and brain,
her child pointed out to her: you do not harvest brain.
Moving into the next chamber, we encounter this strange parabolic entity:
Three steps, two steps,
Three steps, trip and fall all the way to the bottom.
Dust yourself off and go have some cocoa.
Arriving at the parlor, we pause because we are tired and sit on the comfy couch to watch some Netflix. We fall asleep while the show continues unwatched. It doesn’t care.
Made an investment recently… Now calm down, I know you’re all excited to hear about it and I’m going to tell you all about it. [Be pretty mean to bring it up and not tell you all about it right?] Investments make good money sense etc etc and in these times everyone is eager for any assistance they can get. I understand this.
My investment is of a different nature, namely the nature of staying comfortable in summertime. Nature + summer=funk. Hot sweaty stinky funk.
Still with me? Great! I recently invested in a collection of A-Shirts. 25 A-Shirts. Yup, damn near a month’s worth factoring in going au natural on weekends.
Now, if you’re anything like me, you’re wondering what the hell an A-Shirt is. Unless you’re nothing like me and you knew all along that wifebeaters were actually called A-Shirts all this time. (Who knew, really, that this was the case? Really?) So I decided that I had spent enough summers uncomfortably attired and was going to do something about it this year. [Snip boring details.]
So if you don’t already own a month’s supply of wifebeaters, think about it, ok? You won’t regret it – trust me. You do trust me don’t you?
Trust this: Sleeves are for losers!