slave master

SLAVE MASTER


Locally we have a humongous flag near the local college, next to the freeway. I can’t imagine it is owned by the collage since they are more likely to blow up the nearby military recruitment office than display anything patriotic. Of course, if the exalted leader Obammy or Hillary were to stop by for a visit they would fall to their knees en masse, tear out their hair in ecstasy, screech in sexual release and either/or chant that they are unworthy or that they pledged to sacrifice a conservative on the alter of political correctness next to a chicken. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not overly fond of absentminded displays of jingoism, but neither do I believe in biting the hand that protects our overseas oil colonies. Anyway, the flag pole is such a length that it reaches exactly one mile of elevation and the flag is equally large. You can see that sucker from a long way away. And some idiot is wondering why we can’t lower the flag to half mast over the Tragedy Of Arizona. Oh My Mother Humping God, Becky! If you lower the sumbitch as soon as a breeze came along the lower portion of the thing would be snapping pedestrians off their feet and flinging them into buildings. The lower edge of the flag comes nearly half way down the pole and these Einstein’s can’t figure out what lowering it is going to do. My aching ass.

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Again, the Obammy Buzzards ( those dedicating their lives to following the prez’es every idiocy ) are circling. Look, the silly bugger is bowing to the Chinese leader dude in a degrading fashion, just like all the other leaders he’s kissed ass with. Okay, first off, this is a guy that facers Mecca five times a day on a rug, but even Allah or Mohammed or whoever it is they love is no match for the commies he idolizes. Give Obammy a successful commie dictator and his nipples get hard and his sphincter starts puckering in anticipation of man love. He would love to be just like them, saluting a parade of tanks as they rumble by and sending Constitutionalist insurgents to Alaska for exile. Secondly, even though few of you are willing to accept it, our day of glory in the sun is pretty much over. Someone has to beg other countries for any scrap of cash to keep the door of America open a few days longer ( they won’t actually give us anymore money, we just have to beg them not to sell off the debt they already have too fast so as not to crash our economy ). Be glad it’s the half breed doing the groveling ( relax- meant in an “outcast” sort of way rather than racially. Don’t get your PC panties in a bunch ).

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Okay, I finally figured out the excuse I’m going to give for when I screw up. I’m letting you learn from my mistakes. Since you won’t admit that you make any, I’m sacrificing myself for your learning tool. I know that it is stupid to rely on future cash. I realize it is prudent to invest now before the cash flow ceases. I know this, yet I allowed myself to hope that my tax refund would help solve all my problems. I must have because looking back on the last two and a half months, I’ve only dug twenty five feet of my earth tube trench down to two feet. The first foot is easy, stepping down on the shovel and lifting the softened dirt up and away. The second foot needs the pick, but it is still somewhat easy. After that, it is hardened clay that takes a hell of a lot of work to dig. I did start down at the beginning of the trench and it is fractions of an inch at a time but I did hack down to three feet for about four feet in length. The rest of the trench is the two feet down. Now, granted, fall and winter digging is sometimes impossible if it is too cold or too wet. Or two dark. But only 25 feet? What a damn slacker. Subconsciously I must have already made up my mind that I was going to hire a backhoe. So what happens? My tax return is cut in half. I’ve been making under twenty grand a year for the last fifteen years ( the casino years were untaxed tips in excess of my wages- and relax, Francis. The IRS taxes you at two bucks an hour tips at the casino for slot workers and that is all you need to declare. In case any of you punks were thinking of turning me in to The Man ) and always got about two grand back at tax time. Except once when the asshats took my return without warning ( I had been paying arrears on support payments [ they changed the amount I owed retroactively ] for three years without missing one payment and suddenly they decide they want the rest immediately ). Rather than taking that threat seriously, of the amount suddenly being ended, I came to rely on the tax return. Not for immediate bills, nothing silly like that. But it did fill in holes I would otherwise need to worry about monthly. Car insurance and what not. Extra prep supplies.

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So, here is a rude reminder that if you are the owner of a petroleum slave, you are reliant on that slave. How many of you actually have a way to get to work if the car broke or gasoline prices doubled? Other than play the old “two jobs, one car, one person waits for hours to pick up the other”? I cut the cord to the grid, cut back on car use to almost nothing. Always have saving in the bank and can support two of us on minimum wage ( when I told you about the three grand writing income, I did forget to mention that $1200 of that went to reference books and another $500 to various business expenses-it’s not all gravy ). And I fell for relying on some extra income. Bad prepper! Bad! I can’t believe I acted like a schmuck. I conveniently forgot that the feds changed the tax withholding and that the child tax break ends at 16. I guess I was so happy to have a few extra nickels to stop at the used book store, eat out occasionally and give the ingrate ball and chain extra gambling money that I forgot I’d have to make up for that at the end of the year. No huge deal, I’m always ready for unexpected expenses. Just a blow to the pride on trying to be ready for the occasional curve ball.

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