| Current mood: |  depressed |
| Current music: | Morning Report With Mark & Steve, WOC AM 1420 |
It's Friday, You Bastards
Hi, my name is Greg and I'm a recovering progressive. It's been seven days now since I've felt any sympathy for and/or have tried to help the downtrodden and oppressed because I now know that the downtrodden and oppressed are in that position because they asked for it. I'm also against unions, government services which should be privatized, minority and gay rights, birth control, abortion, equal pay and anything else women may want to do that doesn't involve being barefoot, pregnant and chained to a stove all day for free. I'd like to thank all the little people such as God for my recovery but I really can't because the lion's share of the credit goes to my new best friends, Bitt and Bichele.
Bitt and Bichele aren't their real names. They requested anonymity because they know that most of you, my treasured 10 million loyal daily readers, buy your donuts at Wawa and 7-Eleven and, well, would you want the likes of you to know who you are? I didn't think so. Besides that, Bitt said that fake names are all that you people need to know.
I can tell you that Bitt is running for something this November and you should vote for him. I can also tell you that Bichele is going to help and you should believe everything she says about him. She works for a company, let's just call it Crunswick Group, and she doesn't like to brag so let me do it for her: If Hitler had had the foresight to hire a PR firm, it would have been Crunswick and we'd all be speaking German right now. Except for those of you who are Black, handicapped, Jewish, Communist, Socialist, gay, intellectual or otherwise racially impure and/or unfit to live for any other reason because you would be dead and not speaking anything at all. The rest of us, though, would be speaking German. Even the women...But they would speak only when spoken to because girls are meant to be seen and not heard.
Before I forget, I have to give some credit for my amazing transformation to The Sheriff of Nottingham, who is one of the last people in England who understands Bitt. I have known Bitt and Bichele for years but it wasn't until last week when the Sheriff set up a meeting in London for the four of us that I truly understood what they were saying.
We had lunch at the Rob From The Poor Pub, which I highly recommend because all the serving wenches there really know their places and as if that isn't enough, they also have a scalpel signed by Dr. Mengele hanging on the wall. Then there's the Spandau Revenge which is like a flaming bananas foster with a German twist. And a lot more fire. Seriously, when they bring it out, you'd swear that the Reichstag was on fire all over again.
I could rave about The Night Of The Long Knives Seasoned Curly Fries and the Operation Hummingbird Hot Wings, too, but you didn't come here tonight to hear me give lots of free plugs to the Rob From The Poor Pub. You also didn't come here to hear me give lots of free plugs and spin control to Larry Winget but too bad because his people called my people, they talked and now I'm contractually obligated to do it and you're stuck listening to it.
Yes, you are collateral damage yet again but don't worry because I'll keep this mercifully short. Larry was on the radio the other tonight, talking to Jon Lovitz (Who was subbing for Dennis Miller, who was off doing God knows what with God knows who when he should have been working) about his new book, People Are Idiots and I Can Prove It!---which is an obvious and vastly inferior right-wing copy of Rush Limbaugh Is a Big Fat Idiot (Al Franken, 1996) and The New New Rules: A Funny Look at How Everybody but Me Has Their Head Up Their Ass (Bill Maher, 2011) but I'm not supposed to tell you that part, so I won't.
What I am supposed to tell you is that when Larry told you that all your problems are your fault and you are making what you are worth---Emphasizing that if you make $8/hour, it is because you are worth $8/hour and if an executive makes $5000/hour, it is because he is worth $5000/hour and the system is perfect and never makes mistakes or takes advantage of or victimizes anyone. Never, never, never. And if you don't believe him, just ask the 8 year old girls who make your shoes for 25 cents an hour for 14 hours a day and all the gruel they can eat before they are sold off as sex slaves. If those little sluts had made better choices, they wouldn't be in that situation. It might seem harsh to call them sluts but when they are sold as sex slaves, those tramps usually demand birth control, so what choice do I have?..., he was telling the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth. So believe that part. What Larry's people stressed the most is that I'm supposed to tell you to forget the part where he exposed himself as the fake, phony and fraud...Not to mention grossly stupid buffoon that can't even keep his own agenda straight...that he is by saying that it's a real shame that obscenely overpaid CEO's rape and rob healthy companies right into the grave, leaving the workers out in the cold through no fault of their own. So forget that part, OK?
Whew. If I had known that being a recovering progressive was this much work, I never would have done it in the first place. It's almost as bad as the weekly party and Theme Drink. And you know, I tried to end the Friday party and theme drink in 2006 because I felt that three years was enough but then my hate mail and death threats reached new all time highs and then when George W. Bush and Dick Cheney started calling and saying, "Man, I'm glad my approval ratings aren't as low as yours,"...Well, that's when Drusilla, my Agent, put her foot down and demanded I restart it.
That wasn't so bad, because she doesn't have an especially scary foot but then the game changed when she said, "Fine. Forget my foot, luv. And start worrying about my fangs." Have I ever told you she's a vampire? And my bodyguards, Buffy and Faith, were BOTH off that day because someone in HR screwed up again.
And it's all your fault. Because you keep making bad choices that keep ruining my life. Go on. Laugh it up. While you still can because when Bitt replaces that uppity socialist currently in the Oval Office, we'll see who gets the last laugh. And you may as well have one of these, the Theme Drink that Fifi, my Sommelier, invented for tonight, while you're at it:
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Cafe De Rob From The Poor Pub Cocktail
Ingredients:
1 1/2 oz Gin
1 tsp Anis
1 tsp Light cream
1 Egg white
Mixing instructions:
Shake all ingredients with ice, strain into a cocktail glass, and serve.
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Has there ever been a more fitting drinkable metaphor for the upcoming election and Bitt's recent overseas trip than a potable that mixes gin, cream and egg whites? No, I say. Unless you actually try to drink it, in which case, I say, "Are you crazy? Why don't you just do a straight shot of cyanide which is just as good a metaphor but doesn't taste like pine needles and doesn't leave you with a hangover?"
I really wish more people would ask me for cocktail advice because then I could get out of the politics and party business and do bartender consulting full-time. That's what God put me here to do, you know. Why do you keep on insisting on thwarting His plan and defying His will with your stupid choices that keep ruining my life? You are too irresponsible to handle freewill! I really don't know how you live with yourself but I do find some solace in knowing that you're only paid what you're worth.
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