"Trickle down economics....."

Jesus, more politics?  Really?  Yes... more politics.  I have a link to one of my home town news papers and there is a place where you can comment, discuss, or argue about the content of any or all of the articles.  As usual, politics is quite the hot bed and people get real mad real fast these days.

Anyhow, the original topic was something about local politics, which lead to national topics, which lead to all of the usual suspects.  Of course the President was brought up, his history, blah blah blah.  Naturally Bush was brought up along with his history.

Obama's unprecedented spending got whirled around like a pin wheel at a kindergarteners birthday party in a wind storm.  Naturally a lot of the numbers being knocked around were not traceable to any facts, as so often happens.  As equally likely, someone rushed to the defense of the President by calling "racism".

I'm not going to go any further with all of that silliness.  But I have to bring up how far back people are willing to go.  And I guess its okay, but "trickle down economics" was brought up.  Not only was it brought up but it was elaborated upon at great length.  Defend, deflect... but nobody take responsibility.

During the economic diatribe, we were told that only republicans are rich and only republicans benefit from these policies.  I simply asked, "where do rich democrats in office make their money?" and the person blew an o-ring.  This person started calling me names, tried to insult my family....  Mind you, they never answered the question.  That is normally where these things end up.  Somehow responsibility is always put on previous administrations.  (Liberals and conservatives alike did this during the last administration but just don't remember it too well.)

Here's the kicker, people.  I don't give a hairy rats ass who is in office.  You can spin it any way you want to, but I prefer to see this in a very simple manner.  As long as our politicians and media are going to be pinning us against each other, we are going to have a problem.  As long as we and our politicians sit and point fingers and lay blame without offering solutions to problems, our asses will stay right here.  We've gotten lazy.  Well, not us as much as our representatives.  We are paying these people to do nothing but throw fits like they do on elementary school play grounds.  They won't hold themselves accountable and it appears that we won't either.  Its just far easier to talk shit, point fingers and deal with the same thing election after election, day after day.

The only way we can hold these assholes accountable is to vote them out.  Here's were party line affiliation comes in.  Most republicans are going to vote republican, most democrats vote for democrats and we end up with the same turds in the same sewer.

No wonder why things don't get handled.  Look who we elect and re-elect from the bottom up!

While I'm on the subject....

A "friend" gave me a ration of shit over my post on Senator Bernie Sanders.  It appears as if I struck a chord.  The bit was full of opinion, no doubt, but there were  some verifiable facts and I think I paid enough attention to the hypocrisy that seems abundant in politics.  For what it's worth, my "friend" believes I  chose to pick on Sanders because he isn't a conservative.  That's not the case at all. I chose him because he is a politician who is full of shit and enamored with himself.  Actually, after a discussion with another friend, she suggested I write about my feelings regarding the esteemed gentleman.

In fairness, I'd like to say a few words about Senator Mitch McConnell.  Pretty much everything I said about Sanders is applicable to McConnell but of course McConnell sits across the isle from Senator Sanders.

Right off the bat, one thing that irks the ever loving shit out of me about Senator McConnell is, he too thinks he can feel what the middle class feels.  He thinks he understands.  Now, its not so much that he feels this way, but this cat is way wealthier than Senator Sanders is.  Depending on sources, McConnell is worth between $9 million and $36 million dollars.  And in my opinion, that moves him well beyond an understanding of what the middle and lower classes are going through.  Honestly, do you think this guy goes grocery shopping?  Do you think he knows what a gallon of milk costs?  How about toilet paper? Fuel?  I'd venture a guess that he doesn't know what his power bill costs.  I think someone else is writing that check and I don't think the good Senator has enough time in his busy schedule to do a personal expense audit.  I'd also venture a guess that he hates the word audit and wants nothing to do with an audit... unless he is to impose one on a democrat.

This guy has been in politics for about 30 years.  As a new comer in 1985, the Senator stepped into a then very cushy position that earned him a little over $75k a year.  Since then, McConnell climbed the ranks and nowadays senators make $174k a year.  He being who he is and the position he now holds, you can add on an additional $19k - $20k. 

Mitch McConnell is comfortable.  Way comfortable.  After all this time in office, he has a lot of insulation.  He's made connections that are making him money outside of politics.  It's a given and everyone whose been in politics this long is just like him!

Yeah, he's just like you and me.  I bet he doesn't get his suits from Mens Wearhouse, because he doesn't like their style.  His suits are taylor  made.  I bet he has more than 2 tuxedos.  I'll call my mechanic and see how many tuxedos he has... wait a second.  No I won't because Roy is a crafty man and one hell of a mechanic (Roy's Auto, Jackson Wyoming 733-6616).

And don't get me wrong.  I am not jealous of his wealth or that of the other couple hundred millionaires in congress.  This isn't about the redistribution of their wealth either.  I'll make my own shuckles.  This is about people who have no clue what your life is like and they are trying to convince you that they do.  They are nothing like you and they don't have a clue as to what real America is going through and don't ever let them fool you.

Why I disagree with Bernie Sanders....

A quote from the esteemed and benevolent gentleman, Senator Bernie Sanders (I-VT)



I didn't get interested in politics until late in life.  Now only a short time later I find myself on the precipice of not giving a shit at all.  I find all things politics becoming more and more frustrating and I'll tell you why.  It is more difficult to find the truth in anything any politician says.

As time goes on, I see less honor and less integrity in our nations politicians as a whole.  I see people who have been in politics at one level or another who have become very comfortable holding office.  Senator Bernie Sanders (I-VT) is a great example of what I am talking about.

Senator Sanders, like a lot of his constituents have been in politics for a long time.  I believe at one point they either thought they could make a difference or, they knew the job would be filled with great pay and benefits.  Often the earlier would morph into the latter and you now have a person "holding down a position" rather than a person "doing a job".  I am also of the belief, regardless of your party affiliation, the longer you stick around the more of a party line official you become.  And, its those party lines that dictate what you say (and or do) at any particular time.  Because of this and labeling, the nation will eventually become so polarized that everything ends up being a fight.  This is where we stand today.

Senator Sanders, in true party line fashion is furthering the polarization by pointing fingers.  A true leader, (if there are any from either party) would step up, acknowledge that they are part of the problem and do something about righting the ship.  But here in lies the problem.  Their party lines will not allow them to meet in the middle.  This has to be "us versus them", and we the lemurs buy into it time and time again.  We keep electing the same people and we keep expecting change.

Following a strong line for democrats, the esteemed gentleman from Vermont does what his constituents do.  He tells you (the middle class) that he knows what you are going through.  Senator Sanders has been in political  office for 40 years. He was elected into the House in 1991 and then the Senate in 2006-2007.  In the last 8 years, the guy has made at least $1 million dollars from the tax payer (and who knows how much elsewhere).  How much money have you made during the last 8 years?  Senator Sanders is going to try to lead you to believe he understands what it is like to have to make the decision between buying much needed medicine, or pay the power bill. He wants you to believe that he knows what its like to try to scrounge up enough money for gas in order to get to work in the morning.  Senator Sanders will look you in the eye and tell you that he believes that income inequality is a problem... but at the same time is doing nothing bout it.  It would go a great deal towards his integrity and honor if he donated $100k of his salary to middle and lower class families that are scraping by, and it would also put him back in line with the people he says he really understands.

In short, Senator Sanders is just like his friends in DC.  He is "fighting" for the middle class.  What that really means is, he wants you to believe he is really fighting, but has nothing to show for it...  except for his good word and that is why you should keep him in office...

It could be coincidental, but we all know that the VA is in a real rough spot.  Did you know that Bernie Sanders is Chairman for the Senate Committee on Veterans Affairs?

I'll close with this.  Politics is a popularity contest.  The longer you're around, the more people you meet.  The more people you meet, the more you realize that there are things you can do for them and in return, they for you.  All of a sudden, you're a hell of a guy within your party and everyone loves you....  These people have lost touch with all of America and they truly forgot why they went into politics to begin with, unless they are a con-artist.  Nobody wants to solve a problem.  They've convinced themselves that if they solved a problem they might be talking their way out of a pay check.

Fire them all...

What's wrong with America?

 

What's wrong with America?  I've heard a lot of people take that question on.  I didn't think I had a clue, until today.  Today, 30 seconds after walking into the convenience store, I found the answer to that very question.  (Turns out, I do some of my best thinking in the convenience store.  I should probably hang out there more often.)

30 seconds after I walk into the store and begin to pour myself a soda, I watch a young girl trying to pour herself an Icee.  Her brother who appeared to be about the same age got away with the task.  And truthfully, there is a bit of skill involved.  You can easily screw around and shoot cherry Icee all over the store if you aren't careful.  Well, the little lady was not careful and that was obvious because she was wearing about a quart of Cherry Icee.  Problem was, the cup could have only held about a pint....

That is not what is wrong with America.

As the little girl sits there with this semi frozen red shit all over her face, arms, shirt, counter, floor and Icee machine she says... "Daddy, it's not my fault...."  And she said it over and over again as if trying to convince her father that the fucking Icee machine went bat shit crazy for a minute and tried to puke red shit on everything and every body.

The problem with America is, people don't take responsibility for the shit they do.  Now, I'm not saying you have to kick the shit out of this little girl to make the point, but I do think you owe it to yourself (if your her parent) to say, "It is your fault because the lever didn't pull itself...."  No big deal, right.  Don't make a big deal out of it.  It's a spilled slurpee, but make sure she understands that it was indeed her fault that half of the convenience store was shellaced in red slurpee.






Now what kind of made me chuckle is this.  She looks at her daddy while he is busy going through about 7 lbs of napkins trying to clean her up and asks, "Daddy, can I have another cup?''  Daddy grabs her another cup and lets her have another go.....  I almost flipped my wig!

I would have told her, "well sugar, no you can't have another cup because there is nothing wrong with the other cup.  You get the other cup with only 1 table spoon of red shit in it.  You can then have yourself a good cry in the back seat of the car, tell me you hate me, and then "accidentally" spill half of the tablespoon of red shit all over my car's window and door panel."

You've got to say something other than, "I know it wasn't your fault...."  You have to say something else!!!  I don't care if it's "Jaeger bomb, pizza fart" but you do not allow this kid to think for one second, that this was not her fault.  I don't care if it takes half a day in lawn chairs staring at the slurpee machine, waiting for it to go bat shit crazy, like your little angel would have you believe happened earlier.

If you're a god damned American, you stand up as a parent and say something to your kid when things like this happen.  If you don't, your kid grows up, runs for office, gets elected, screws everything up and looks you dead in the eye and says, "It's not my fault...."

Things I don't understand....

The more I think about it, the more I realize there are a lot of things I just don't understand.  I try not to spend much time trying to figure these things out.  I really do, but some of them just get stuck in my head.  This morning's stop at the convenience store brought a few things to my attention that I really am having a hard time putting away.

I've gone off on "bikers" before, but its because I don't understand today's bikers.  I've tried to get it.  I saw a guy wearing a t-shirt that said, "Harley, if you have to ask you wouldn't understand."  I find that a tad bit pretentious...  If I understood, I wouldn't ask, right?  So me being me, I felt obligated to ask.  "So you're a biker, eh?"  I mean, he had the dumb ass, brand new t-shirt I described above which made the insinuation that he was indeed a biker.  He nodded.  He was also trying to avoid eye contact or any further interaction with me.  "I noticed your shirt.  You ride a Harley, eh?  I couldn't tell because you are driving a brand new motor coach, dragging a trailer that could be filled with anything."  He again nodded.  "So its safe to assume that when you are not driving this motor coach, you are actually riding what you are hauling around in the trailer?'  Then it happened.  He said, "Why are you asking me these questions?"  I said, "I'm inquisitive, I guess.  Perhaps I don't understand."

The guy got mad, and honestly that is what I was trying to get to.  I hadn't had coffee yet, so I had to do something to get the blood pumping.  Anyhow, the conversation did progress.  "Why are you fucking with me?" they guy asked.  "I'm not fucking with you.  I am asking questions, making small talk.  You might say that I am a town ambassador.  I want you to feel comfortable, welcome even, in our sleepy little mountain town."  At this point his head tilted like a dogs does when it hears a high pitched noise.  I continue, "So you're not so much a "Sons of Anarchy" type of biker as much as you are a "Sons of a Middle Aged Crisis" type of biker, right?"  Now, he's fully mad and I am almost fully satisfied.

Now let me back track a little bit.  Here's this guy who is claiming to be a biker.  He is wearing the dumb t-shirt that his dumb girlfriend bought for him right after he bought himself the likewise dumb "If you can read this, the bitch fell off" t-shirt.  With that, he was wearing black designer jeans, a big ass silver concho belt, and naturally.... silver tipped cowboy boots.  All of his attire screamed "asshole", not biker.

"I ride all of the time", he said.  "All of the time?  Like when you are not hauling the bike around?" I ask.  He was mad or embarrassed.  "What in the fuck do you want from me?" he said semi-confidently so I asked, "Explain the dumb slogan on your dumb shirt...."  He shook his head, finished pumping diesel into the motor coach, hopped in and fired it up.  He left without answering my question.

All of that brought me to this.  The reason why some assholes wear shirts that say "Harley, if you have to ask you wouldn't understand" is because they can't explain themselves.  Now I do understand.

Other shit I don't understand:
     *Why won't God heal amputees?
     *Why doesn't gum keep its flavor like it used too in the old days?
     *Why would you use Coca Cola (a corrosive beverage) to clean rust (corrosion) from metal?
     *Why do some women wear low cut shirts that show off their cleavage and then complain when
       men look?
     *Why are lap dances better when the stripper is crying?
     *Religion
     *Relatives
     

Jack Daniels, if you please...

Jack Daniels.... What a legacy!  Not the man nor the liquor, but me drinking the shit.  I've always been capable of questionable acts, but this fact has always been exemplified by consumption of this distilled wonder.  Honestly, I gave up drinking this particular libation because of where I often woke up.  Not necessarily in jail or anything like that, but in a position of where I would have to spend that next day trying to relive the previous nights actions and then make some kind of reparations.  If not reparations, good solid excuses....  If not good solid excuses, sincere apologies.

Anyhow, I decided to put my relationship with Jack on hold after one evening a couple of decades ago.  Perhaps many of you have witnessed this.  People who tend to over consume Jack Daniels always end up being the loudest and smartest people in the room.  This is a given and this was exactly the case in this particular story.

A couple of buddies and I were walking a nondescript street in Las Vegas drinking horribly cheap beer and of course, Jack Daniels.  For some reason, those who partake in Jack D end up being rather philosophical.  I was no exception and as we discussed the finer intricacies of prostitution, I professed that all prostitutes needed were a few more hugs to boost their self confidence.  Naturally the company I kept disagreed and I embarked on a mission to prove my point.  (I think a bet may have taken place.)  So as we walked I further professed my position.  "These women lack self confidence.  They lack love, not sex from a man.  They have no male support system in place and what can say "i love you as a person and support you", more than a hug"?

We entered a more congested area and I was set on proving my point (pointlessness).  Soon we stumbled upon such a person necessary in order to make my point.  I walked up to her and said, "Hey, what's your name?"  I imagined she would have a stripper like name, something like Cinnamon or Sparkles... she said "Ruth".  I was amazed because (I was drunk) I never met someone as young as she was, whose name was Ruth.  I went on... "Ruth, my colleagues and I are conducting a study on the oldest profession in the world, one in which I believe you are employed."  Ruth said, "Wait a minute...  You think I'm a hooker?"  I nodded and said, "well, yes..."  Ruth said rather convincingly, "I'm a Black Jack dealer, mother fucker!" and she promptly shoved me as hard as she could and made that clicking noise only a woman can make when they are disgusted.

Of course, my case study took a shot on that one.  It was obvious because my friends were laughing.  That only made me more determined.  After another slug of "liquid smart" I described where I went wrong and began to discuss not making another mistake.  (Turns out, that was my very next mistake.)

We rounded a corner on the way to a side street and standing before us was exactly the person I had been looking for.  Her name was "Jewels" and I found the name fitting.  It fit within the guidelines I set forth earlier in the evening, so how could I go wrong now?  Before I could ask her name she said, "you wanna party?".  I held my hand up in a waiving fashion and said, "I'd much rather ask you a question or two."  "Man, I really ain't got time for this shit" she said.  "What do you want to know?"
"For the record" I said, "are you indeed a prostitute?"  She answered my question with another... "Are you a fucking cop?"  Following suit, I then asked, "Do I look like a cop?".  She too made the clicking noise and rolled her eyes.  "What do you want, man?" she said in a demanding fashion.

"My colleagues and I are in the middle of a case study regarding the oldest profession in the world... the profession of prostitution."  She began to laugh before I could go on and interrupted with, "You mother fuckers ain't no doctors." She laughed when she said that, and I took a good bit of offense.  I stammered, "We feel something went wrong in your life and we stand in disagreement on what that something is..."  Again, the clicking thing and she began to mess with her finger nails.  "Man, you better hurry up before Delmonte shows up."  She added, "I need to be making money!"

I looked her dead in the eye (as well as someone half full of Jack Daniels can) and said, "I think you need a hug."  She laughed and opened her arms in order to let me give her a hug.  I stepped up, gave her a hug and then I heard an unfamiliar voice say, ''You're paying for that, boy."  I turned around to see an aggressive young man only slightly older than me, double stepping it in my direction.  "Oh shit, that's your ass", Jewels said.  "That's Delmonte and he's gonna want money for you wasting my time."  "Looky here" he said, "I gotta have some money for you wasting her time." 

Now, looking at Mr. Delmonte... I didn't have him pegged as a man who was big on conversation nor negotiations but I didn't think it would hurt to give it a shot.  "My good man..." was as far as I got before I found myself in a fist fight with Mr. Delmonte.  By some miracle, I was freed from the level of intoxication I had landed myself in.  I think it was getting punched in the mouth by a pimp that did it, nonetheless I had managed to begin to get the upper hand. 

Typical for a guy being half full of whiskey, I begin talking as I try to administer an ass whooping.  "I was just...(punched him in the nose) trying to...(punched him in the mouth) have a con...(punch) ver...(punch) sa...(punch) tion...(punch) with this young lady and you show up demanding money."  I honestly felt that I had the upper hand now....  then it happened.  BLAM!  I got hit over the head with Jewels' purse which was apparently filled with rocks and condoms.  I have to let go of Mr. Delmonte in order to deal with Jewels.  I briefly look around and my constituents are curiously missing... that too tends to happen when things like this occur when one partakes in the whiskey.

Jewels was doing her best Jackie Chan imitation with her purse, hitting me with every strike.  Out of no place I think... "Punch the hooker...."  That was the last thing I remembered until waking up the next morning in my front yard.

I don't know if I got a good shot off.  I don't know how in the hell I got home.  I had no idea what happened to my friends, Delmonte or Jewels, but it was at that point that I figured I had probably ought to stop trying to do case studies, street polls, or drinking whiskey.

I'm not for sure if there is a moral to this story, but if I had to choose one it would be... "nothing good comes from punching a hooker.... or drinking jack Daniels.... or trying to fight a pimp"

First Annual Pocket Gopher Hunt!