Month: July 2012

Ah, July 4th.  America celebrates her birthday and the signing of the Declaration of Independence.  Among the chief concerns stated in the document among several was taxation without representation.  Now we have representation, but unfortunately they suck and we keep electing them.

On an average day, you probably get up, drive to work in a car that was taxed when you bought it, fueled by gas that is taxed (rolled into the cost, so you don’t think about it).  Once at work, you realize in an hour that you produce, you get to keep only about 65% of what you earn, since federal, state and local taxes, combined with Social Security and Medicare (both of which are projected to go bankrupt in less than 15 years – Bernie Madoff anyone?  No, there’s no redress against Washington.) eat up an ever rising % of your paycheck.  You probably then go get something to eat or purchase goods and/or services, which are taxed up to 10%, depending on what state you live in.  Throw in property taxes, tolls, fees, and the fact that the businesses you buy from are also taxed (which raises our prices) and you at least breathe a sigh of relief knowing your country is stable.  Oh wait, we’re over $15 trillion in debt and rising and both parties have their hands in our pockets.  Hmmm.  Term limits, anyone?  Oh Congress just voted that down last year.  Time to watch Doomsday preppers again, I might be missing something…plus, with the millions I make from comedy each year, at least I can fall back on that.  Just in case, I think I’ll brush up on my Mandarin.

That said, for every Dred Scott or Plessy v. Ferguson moment, there’s the Emancipation Proclamation or the Civil Rights Act.  For every sleazy politician, there’s twenty soldiers ready to fight for liberty.  And we have the Bill of Rights – so I can run my mouth, one dick joke or drunken rant at a time.  USA!  USA!  USA!

I got some free passes, thanks to my pal Scott, to see Spider-Man early.  Yes, I know with the title, this previous sentence is off to a bad start…bear with me.  Unfortunately, the transformer blew, so the movie was in danger of not playing.  While this wait ensued, there was a Katy Perry movie going on also, not in IMAX, so it was proceeding as the power was kicking back on.  I then saw a 17 year old wearing a Katy Perry t-shirt.  A 17 year old boy.

Amazingly, he was with a slutty chick with her boobs pushed up.  Am I missing something?  If a guy at my high school in the late 90’s showed up with a Mariah Carey shirt, he would got his ass kicked.  At least melvined (look it up) or berated.  Amazing, and not in the Spider-Man way.

The movie was cancelled, so I got a voucher and turned with my lady to walk out.  Walking right in front of me was a 14 year old chick with brown roots, bleach blonde on top and shorts tinier than my boxer briefs from 2003 on my now less svelt self.  With her mother.  I didn’t even have a flinch of perversion, but I said aloud, “What kind of mother lets her daughter dress like that?”  Oh my God, I am an adult.  I was puzzled at this new feeling of maturity, but even more, I was happy that I wasn’t walking the mall with a 14 year old mega whore.  God, I know I’m a piece of crap – please don’t let this tramp be a sign that I’ll have the girl who gets knocked up at ten.  Hell, I’ll take weird kid who talks to themselves and loves LARPing (live action role playing, for the layman).

I was at work Friday and in 15 minutes I saw the sky turn blacker than Satan’s asshole.  We ran to the door and saw clouds DIVING…that’s not good.  All of the sudden people were cutting themselves and renouncing sins.  It was dangerously close to five, so I didn’t care – I would drive home through 100 miles of the neighborhood where Reginald Denny got a brick upside the skull.

Having a black car, I was glad to know my windows were cracked, as God’s wrath destroyed my suede interior (I’m very rich, what else would I have?)  I actually made it home in record time, since the weak were too scared to drive through the 3rd plague of the Apocalypse.  Then I got home and realized my stupid power was out.  This was bad, since my Friday plan was to pound beers and take out my week frustration on some video games.  I packed up the Bean (my dumb dog) and headed off to my girl’s place.

I stopped by the gas station later and holy shit, it was on.  It was 85 degrees in the Speedway, 15 people in line and a homeless man was screaming random words.  I am rather stupid in some things, but in analytical thinking some things are rather clear, so I deduced rather quickly that some things weren’t worth a gas station riot.  Two stops later, we found Giant Eagle, functional but half boarded up with plywood.  Time to ninja buy.

Ohio sucks for several reasons, but one thing I love is that we don’t have hurricanes.   Usually.  People were running around like assholes and buying batteries and water like it was the end of days.  I realized at that moment I am going to be OK when the angry hand of God comes down.  Not because I am a stalwart of goodness, but because I have no qualms about shooting strangers in a grocery store riot.  Then my power came back on and I forgot 99% of what I should have remembered…yay video games!