Tuesday, June 22, 2004

Not much happened last night other than running budget numbers. We are trying to figure out how to pay our bills and start getting ahead on some of our loans. We only have three, but they are biggies. We probably won't be able to make meaningful headway until I'm done with college and can increase my hours back up to 40 per week, but we can pick away at them in the meantime. We also need to get some money saved up for the cruise in March 2005. There are a lot fewer paychecks between now and then than you would think. Anyway, we worked at that until we had to stop to eat, then we went to bed.

Today will be more of the same. I'm also working on getting all the reading for my next class done during our break. I had hoped to knock off a fine arts class that I need, but that may have to wait. This next class looks like a killer with two big projects and a lot of reading. I'd rather get a jump on it instead of messing around with that art class. I can take care of that one anytime.

I also need to get everything together for the trip to the dunes tomorrow. I have no idea who will be showing up. I tried to call everyone last night, but all I got were answering machines. I had one definite No, two definite Yes's, two I Don't Know's, and the rest were just messages. That usually means one of two outcomes: everybody shows up, or nobody shows up. Of course the weather liars are predicting rain, but it is supposed to taper off while we are at the dunes. Today would be perfect; cool and sunny. Ah well; whatever happens will happen.


Just in case there is any doubt that the Republic is long gone, the Supremes have decided it is a criminal offense to not produce identification on demand to the pigs... er... Law Enforcement Officers. You would think the memory of Nazi Germany would be too fresh in these idiots' collective memories, but apparently not. "You have the right to remain silent, unless we ask you a question." Something else to worry about.

OK, maybe it's too much to ask that people remember something that happened all the way back in the 1940's, but now it seems The Shrub and his band of merry men can't even remember back to the 1980's when the Soviet Union routinely declared political dissidents to be mentally ill. Seems we all need to be on Prozak, according to The Shrub et al. Of course our schools, which can't seem to perform their primary mission of educating our kids, will be spearheading this massive, nation-wide, mental screening process. Oh yeah, that's the ticket; use a government institution that has failed miserably at the task that its employees were trained to do, to perform a function for which they have not one shred of training. And better yet, not only will every child carry the stigma of mental illness for the rest of their life, the drugs will make damn sure they really are mentally ill by destroying their brains.

Beautiful. Just freaking beautiful.

It has often been said (and not without reason) that if you want to see where the U.S. will be in 5 years, look at England. If this is any indication, I'll be leaving the country soon. Ten patrol cars sealing off a section of downtown London, two ambulances full of paramedics, and a fire truck. Why? Terrorist threat? Suspicious package left in front of a shop? A crazed gunman holding a dozen hostages? No, some retard "photographer" that can't get a real job, got his foot run over trying to shove his camera into Britney Spear's vehicle. "It is not known whether any charges will be brought." Against who? All the stupid emergency people who obviously have nothing to do and need to be laid off? The idiot "photographer" that is too stupid to know better than stick his foot under the tire of a moving vehicle? Although it doesn't say, I'm sure the car's driver is the one who will find themselves charged with a serious felony crime. I hear Mexico is nice if you stay on the west coast. And I would love to give St. Kitts a try; I'm sure I could find something useful to do with myself there.

Bah! Now I am depressed; just don't tell The Shrub...

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