No Offense Meant to Your Innate Sensibilities

Take a former high-speed military guy, add a flagrantly narrow view of music and the arts, ignite the passion and conviction that so often come only in later years, mix in 30 years of psycho-spiritual experimentation, a healthy belief that the Ashkenazi and Sephardics really ARE the REAL Jews, add a dollop of cancer and poverty and VOILA! I have come.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

The Sick, The Lame, & The Lazy

Aw, I know life is hard and that sometimes it's easier to stay in bed than get up and face the bogeyman of our existence. Life is fraught with peril. Sometimes we have to do things we dearly do not want to do. People, in their obvious lack of wisdom, hold us up to a standard that we often find hard to achieve. So, what's the answer to this dilemma?

Disability! Yes, disability is a wonderful program in which anyone with a lazybone can enroll in which guarantees that not only do they not have to get out of bed or get off the couch all day long....they actually get paid for it.

One terribly debilitating malady I hear quite a lot about these days is the dreaded anxiety. Anxiety - becoming anxious or nervous about a situation or circumstance. I would hazard a guess that we all have a little anxiety hanging around our necks like a psychological albatross. Perhaps we should all file for disability.

I know one young person who is receiving payments because she has anxiety and a "fear of crowds". These crowds are apparently crowds in which people are doing work, because if Brett Michaels shows up for a concert, she's right there in the middle of the crowd. When the check comes, she's able to brave the crowd at Wal-Mart with no problem. Seems it's just any crowd involved in work that gets her anxiety levels up.

Can I say...give me a break?

Get your lazy, tired, weak behind up off the couch, turn off the DVD player, put up the hash pipe and do something for a change. Your anxiety is no worse than the anxiety of, say, the average lab rat or the average man or woman on the street. What else matters to you aside from how much food you have in your belly? Does anything matter?

You just don't want to lift a finger for anything, ever. It's sad and pathetic. Good luck once the little ones fly the coop and you're left on your own. Who are you going to turn to then? The world's not getting any easier. Do you watch the news? Better buckle up and start fending for yourself.

Perhaps consider your destiny if you continue along the same path of hand-outs, hiding on the couch, and failing to interact with society, failing to provide for the future. Likely it will be a lonely, destitute, miserable death. So let's go. It's not that hard. Get a job. Any job.

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