Last night, while I was sleeping, the NFL season began. I’m boycotting anything to do with Wisconsin until they recall their Governor and dump their illegal, immoral law against collective bargaining for public employees (what, are we not people? Do we not bleed? Do you not come f*cking calling whenever there’s a natural disaster, expecting us to clean things up). So f*ck Green Bay.

Among the other things I ignored last night was the President’s speech before Congress. Whatever that was supposed to accomplish. Oh, I’m sure it was a great speech, so goodie for him. Dave Barry started to refer to the “failed Clinton Presidency” before Clinton was even inaugurated. Obama took, like, a whole year or two to fail. And all we regular people can hope is that he’s a two-term failure (like Clinton), because that’s better than the alternative.

I’m a good boy. I pay my taxes. I return my shopping cart because I know that the store “can’t be responsible” for damage due to carts (which is clearly an outright lie. Even if they aren’t required to be responsible, they certainly could be if they wanted to, and I think they’re full of shit anyway. It’s all “private property” when they want to prohibit skateboarding and overnight parking and shit, but when their improperly contained carts go zipping around and cave in the side of your car, it’s “oh, gee, sorry, not our problem”). And, on those increasingly rare occasions when I fly, I return my tray to the upright position before landing without even being asked.

So why do I have to get stuck with a President Perry (and VP Bachmann)?

Damnit, I’m getting tired of being punished for shit I had nothing to do with. It all started the day I was born. You reformed Catholics know what I’m talking about – original sin. Yeah, ‘cuz Adam and Eve couldn’t keep their grubby little paws off the special apples (never mind that Eve put Adam up to it – he should’ve known better), no garden of Eden for me.

Instead, I’m stuck in this shithole of a world filled with pain, suffering, and working to pay the bills (could be worse, I guess; I could be a woman and be punished for Eve’s transgression by having to go through childbirth; at least I get to keep all my ribs).

Speaking of children, I never had any, yet I get punished for the sins (or pleasures, depending on your point of view) of others by having to pay school taxes (based on the overly-inflated value of my property – what the hell does that have to do with schools?). Funny, I don’t see anybody chipping in for dog and cat food (never mind vet bills).

And now it’s these goddamn anti-smoking commercials.

Look, I don’t smoke. I quit years ago. So many years ago, I don’t remember exactly how long it’s been (must be about 17 years, ‘cuz I think I quit after my dad died, as sort of an homage to him – not that he died of lung cancer or anything; he died from going to the doctor). And he died 17 years ago today – September 9, 1994. I still miss ya, Dad.

Anyhow, every morning I’m subjected to these nasty goddamn commercials. In one, they slap a slab of plaque-plugged aorta down on a table and squeeze out the goo. Another one has some dude gasping for air for 30 seconds that seem like 30 hours. And the latest couple have some Hispanic dude with a tracheotomy who laments that he can’t swim anymore in one, and in another tells us how he had to give up his dream of being an umpire. So I have to listen to him speak through one of those buzzer voice box things (at least he isn’t doing the “burp” technique) ten times an hour during the morning news. It didn’t bother me at first (I thought it was interesting that he still spoke with an accent), but now it’s really starting to get on my nerves.

Hey, I don’t smoke, goddamnit! Enough already.

Speaking of punishment, I guess I better get ready for work.

Thanks a lot, Eve.