Today I tried to prepare a grocery list for myself and as I perused the aisles of the local Ralphs I realized that a loaf of bread would make or break my budget. I thought about putting back a few bottles of wine, but that also seemed to not favor my best interests, thus I forewent a loaf and some cheese and decided to make up the lost nutrients with some almonds and a generic multivitamin that was conveniently on sale. And some people say there is no god. I would have been of the same opinion, until this little miracle found me. I strolled home with some reusable bags to ward off wayward hipsters who, when not begging their parents for money choose to complain about how I’m participating in a forest genocide by using paper bags. I think it’s highly inappropriate to apply genocide to things other than people. At least when it detracts from the genocide used to getting the most attention. The popular genocide of WWII which maintains a sharp focus on the Jewish population, or rather its sudden and steep decline, at the exclusion of anyone else who may have been included.
I like to think of myself as someone who can reflect and identify personally with the Holocaust. Not because I’m Jewish or of any other non-scientific guesswork, but because I typically pick up men in bars. This behavior was frowned upon in the Third Reich much like today and often resulted in mandatory gym (work camp) where the offending man is then surrounded by other men. Curiosities like this one always draw my attention. Like when people think creating a support group such as, “Sex Addicts Anonymous” and that putting a bunch of people in a room together who all want to have sex will not result in an orgy. At least there will be snacks.
As many of you know it’s been in vogue lately to accuse famous people (often posthumously) of being gay. You can always count on the faithful among us to graciously provide their opinion when Hilter makes the headlines in a sloppy attempt to further demonize homosexuality. Much the way management does with labor whenever there’s a desperately needed minimum wage increase followed suspiciously by similar percentage price increase. Fortunately they’ve racked their collective mind and come up with an excellent response should the customers get fussy: “Remember, if the customers complain, tell them it’s because minimum wage went up, and if you haven’t already castrated yourself in front of them, be sure to do so, but please bring a knife from home. Alright!~ Let’s have a great shift guys!”
I’m uncertain how poor I can become before destitution sets in. Unfortunately most of my investments have been fleeting pleasures, with a very low expectation of return. I just hope that if any real suffering occurs that dementia will quickly set in, and I’ll just sell off the furniture for a morphine drip and peacefully await a revolution.
