Let's Nuke New Orleans
Okay, so let me get this straight. The whole Hurricane Katrina thing was the federal government's fault?
Y'know, if I'm living a few miles in from the Gulf Coast in a spot BELOW SEA LEVEL, and I've been paying attention to anything at all, I'd know that I damn well better have a plan for WHEN I get swamped -- not if, for gawd's sake.
Instead, we have to suffer a bunch of freakin' lower-than-the-apes idiots whose response to hurricane warnings was to sit tight in a spot BELOW SEA LEVEL and hope for the best -- and now that they've gottten washed out, they want to whine incessantly about how they weren't whisked away to air-conditioned, well-fed comfort in a quick hour or two!
Mon dew, what a bunch of freakin' pussies Americans are now. This is not the nation that fought WWI or WWII anymore. This is not even the nation that wussed out of Vietnam anymore. This is a nation of millions and millions of overfed, underthinking, fat, lazy, ugly, brutish swine, riding on the backs of a very few productive, thoughtful citizens. It's like Atlas Shrugged, except the villains are more villainous and not nearly as smart, and everyone knows who the hell John Galt is -- he's the guy the rest of us are taking a free ride off of!!! What the hell kind of nation is this that we don't even take the pleasure of shooting down looters like the rabid dogs they are anymore, like Gary Cooper did in that scene in To Kill a Mockingbird? Jesus tap-dancing Christ.
The only thing we have going for us is that the rest of the nations are even bigger pansies than us. That it's so unbelievable, given what unfathomable wusses we've become, doesn't make it any less true.
A side note: New Orleans was a cesspool with an unbearable stench BEFORE all this happened, so why don't we just let it rot into the un-reclaimable swamp it should be? And I don't say that only because I was seriously injured in a bike race there back in April '89. I say it because, the very next weekend, I went back, got drunk, fell down backwards, and was injured a second time, splitting my head open and bleeding like a stuck pig for hours. As if the immediate effect weren't enough, now I'm damaged such that if baldness should ever o'ertake me, and I want to go for the cool white-boy shaved look like Andre Agasse, I can't 'cause I have this giant scar right in the middle of the back of my head. God, how I hate New Orleans.
UPDATE 9/4/05 10:36 am: Of course, I meant Gregory Peck, not Gary Cooper. Oops.
Y'know, if I'm living a few miles in from the Gulf Coast in a spot BELOW SEA LEVEL, and I've been paying attention to anything at all, I'd know that I damn well better have a plan for WHEN I get swamped -- not if, for gawd's sake.
Instead, we have to suffer a bunch of freakin' lower-than-the-apes idiots whose response to hurricane warnings was to sit tight in a spot BELOW SEA LEVEL and hope for the best -- and now that they've gottten washed out, they want to whine incessantly about how they weren't whisked away to air-conditioned, well-fed comfort in a quick hour or two!
Mon dew, what a bunch of freakin' pussies Americans are now. This is not the nation that fought WWI or WWII anymore. This is not even the nation that wussed out of Vietnam anymore. This is a nation of millions and millions of overfed, underthinking, fat, lazy, ugly, brutish swine, riding on the backs of a very few productive, thoughtful citizens. It's like Atlas Shrugged, except the villains are more villainous and not nearly as smart, and everyone knows who the hell John Galt is -- he's the guy the rest of us are taking a free ride off of!!! What the hell kind of nation is this that we don't even take the pleasure of shooting down looters like the rabid dogs they are anymore, like Gary Cooper did in that scene in To Kill a Mockingbird? Jesus tap-dancing Christ.
The only thing we have going for us is that the rest of the nations are even bigger pansies than us. That it's so unbelievable, given what unfathomable wusses we've become, doesn't make it any less true.
A side note: New Orleans was a cesspool with an unbearable stench BEFORE all this happened, so why don't we just let it rot into the un-reclaimable swamp it should be? And I don't say that only because I was seriously injured in a bike race there back in April '89. I say it because, the very next weekend, I went back, got drunk, fell down backwards, and was injured a second time, splitting my head open and bleeding like a stuck pig for hours. As if the immediate effect weren't enough, now I'm damaged such that if baldness should ever o'ertake me, and I want to go for the cool white-boy shaved look like Andre Agasse, I can't 'cause I have this giant scar right in the middle of the back of my head. God, how I hate New Orleans.
UPDATE 9/4/05 10:36 am: Of course, I meant Gregory Peck, not Gary Cooper. Oops.
posted by Steady Earl at 10:29 PM
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