Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Puragtory, DC


Clearly this city has a target on its forehead - and for good reason.  Our dysfunctional, ingorant waste of a government has finally angered the gods to such a degree they have no choice but to shake the ground beneath our feet and hurl violent tropical cyclones in our direction.  Who saw that coming?

Wait a minute, we all should have seen it coming.  Whilst we were supposedly trusting the charlatans we elected to congress to run this country in our best interest, they decided their time would be better spent poking voodoo doll likenesses of their opposing party counterparts in the underground congressional cafeteria instead of actually solving problems.  To wit:  Speaker Boenher poking the eyes out of little Obama's head while intermittently enjoying a Waldorf chicken salad sandwich on marbled rye.  GFY.

Nevermind that the President is a pseudo-Socialist, anti-free market, fiscally incompetent fool.  Anyone smart enough to read this is also likely smart enough to understand that if we ran our household or business with one-tenth the absurdity that this government operates, we'd be dumpster diving for the majority of our future meals.  Think about it for a second, how illogical is it that politicians, arguably the worst human specimen at money management the world has ever known, can vote willy-nilly to raise our nation's credit limit?  Then when they don't agree on the terms, hold our fragile economy hostage like a newborn baby being dangled nonchalantly from a 10th story terrace and threaten to let go?  In the immortal words of Mugatu, I feel like I'm taking crazy pills!

Unfortunately, just like my blog in general, the political outlook is bleak with a field of monkeys looking to take the reigns from Obama in 2012, some of whom are just downright chilling prospects (read: Palin, Bachmann).  Congressional districts are drawn to virtually guarantee relection of these bafoons, and term limits have to be voted in by the very people who are taking advantage of government like a professional wrestler kicking a puppy.  Talk about the fox watching the hen house.  Surely this is what our forefathers had in mind?

Hence, the ground shaking beneath the floor of my downtown office, and the mammoth maple tree which now spans gracefully across Massachussetts Avenue in morbid, horizontal fashion.  Today is Day #7 of the District of Columbia school year, and already the system has been closed half of the time for two separate natural disasters.  Do the math and tell me that our day of reckoning isn't on final approach.