Political Rumination #1: Gimme My George Bush Money

Gas prices got you down?

Yeah, me too.

But like the silhouette of the Lone Ranger astride Trigger galloping toward the village overrun by the black-hat banditos, there is hope on the horizon: the Economic Stimulus Plan.

Yes, sir. With George Bush money in hand, we as a nation will collectively "kick the economy in the ass," stopping recession in its tracks and bestowing a cornucopia of economic prosperity and opportunity from sea to friggin' shining sea.

I love the smell of America in the morning.

Let's do the math. If I get 600 bucks from George I can buy a pony. Or maybe I could buy some sweet rims for my Toyota Celica. Or maybe, just maybe, I can buy some stock in alternative energy sources to help maintain a fuzzy, happy planet.

Or, I could pay off a smidgen of my astronomical student loans. You know, those bills that I have to pay because I invested in an education that would provide me with financial security. Or, I could use the money to pay off my mortgage in an attempt to avoid the plague of foreclosures that are sweeping the nation. Or I can use the cash to buy the new, expensive bread. You know, the same bread that used to cost 89 cents before the nation's farmers switched from wheat production over to corn because corn is more profitable. Afterall, it takes a lot of expensive gas to run a tractor. On that note, I could use the money to buy gas for my COMPACT car for THREE WHOLE MONTHS.

It seems George wants to give money to people who can't afford to spend it; It's like giving the obese comfort food to help them forget about being "big-boned."

The situation reminds me of my first real asthma attack. I'll spare you the minor details. Let's just say I turned a lovely shade of blue and wheezed my way to the nurse's office only to collapse on the floor in a gasping heap. I knew the nurse was an adult, infinitely wise in the ways of the world, and she would undoubtedly have the perfect solution for my precarious predicament. As I strained for every breath, I could only plead for respite by clutching my throat while tears streamed from my bulging eyes. She ended up giving me a cup of water and a friggin' Saltine cracker. She might as well have kicked me in my pre-pubescent nuts.

So while the nation chokes to death, let's make sure it has a cracker and a cup of water to wash it down.

Now am I going to send my check back to the IRS endorsed "FU, suckers" in a gestrure of righteous indignance?

Hell no. I'm gonna buy a motherload of booze and some beef jerky cuz it's gonna be a long friggin' year.

GIMME MY GEORGE BUSH MONEY!