Yes, yes...I know! I haven't been venting my spleen here recently. I have an excuse...well, several, really. And besides, the three people who read this with any regularity really should be able to find ways to entertain yourselves.
If you must know, I've been looking for work...again. And goofing off. Actually, I'm torn. It's Obama's fault. I mean, I could get a job, but then anything I make will be confiscated to pay for Cialis for the elderly and to ensure that every Autoworkers has an upholstered seat in the Men's loo, and I'll still be the scum of the earth, me being a heterosexual, law-abiding, Christian, English-speaking white male and all. So the theft won't even be appreciated by the actual scum who will benefit from it. If I can't even get gratitude out of the deal, then why bother?
On the other hand, hitting the dole seems to have it's advantages. President Obambi will take care of me. He'll pay my bills, make sure I have roof over my head, and pay for my triple bypass (I don't need one, but I might as well get one before they start rationing them out. Best to get in line now). At least until the printing presses at the Mint run out of ink.
Hmm, maybe the best course of action is to work for canned goods and ammunition, and then head for the hills like Grizzly Adams. It would certainly be poetic, more genuinely American (in that it would be a contrived sort of lifestyle that would get 15 minutes on Good Morning America, just before the YesWeCan Stormtroopers have me arrested for defiling Mother Nature by daring to breathe in the woods).
Anyway, if anyone is interested, I have applied for several government jobs --if anyone says "what about the Private Sector?" I will remind them that there is no such thing anymore when the gov't owns 80% of AIG, 40% of Citibank and all of GM. The one I particularly want (I can only hope and pray!) is to be the guy at any future Ministry of Obamacare (which will concern itself with death, naturally) who gets to decide if a specific patient gets a specific course of expensive care.
I would wield my rubber stamp with solemn responsibility, bearing in mind that both lives and billions of taxpayer dollars are at risk. I would carefully sift the paperwork and if I found a sick Baby Boomer, SLAM! I'd stamp "Rejected" across that request form so fast, even if it was just a friggin' hangnail, your head would spin (just don't put in any claims to see a chiropractor after that happens). If you're under 60 and need two kidneys, a colon and a nuclear-powered iron lung -- you're golden so far as I'm concerned. You'll still lead a much more productive and useful life than the Woodstock Generation ever did.
I already know I've 'passed the test' for a particular job (they called me and told me, but won't tell me my grade; that's so I can't sue when a lower-scoring minority or woman gets a job before I do), but I took it in January and was notified in March. I still haven't received any call about actual work.
But when I get it, gentle reader, be assured that someone will now be inside the belly of the beast who has every intention of letting people know just who is in the bureaucracy and what they're doing. Because at the end of the day, President Hopenchanger doesn't run the Government, neither does that horses ass, Nancy Pelosi, and for sure it isn't any elected hack....anywhere. You know who runs the government? The Bureaucrats. And I'm going to join their ranks (to do the right thing).
Be afraid...be very afraid.