Overheard at the Counter: Dear Americans (Boo Hoo I Want a Haircut)

Dear Americans,

This is not an open letter.  It's a specific one.  One specifically written to those of you who marched on state capitals last weekend in your ugly cars in your ugly shirts with your ugly attitudes and carrying your ugly flags and clinging to your ugly guns.

This will not be a letter to the Republican Party, or to their corrupt politicians, but to the common folk, the hoi polloi, the salt of the earth, you know ... morons.

Yes, you are morons.  You are morons for your blind faith in a failed real estate magnate ... I mean, really, who FAILS at real estate in  MANHATTAN?!  That takes a special kind of stupid.

But I digress, I am specifically speaking to the tiny tiny section of those of you who still had the time and money to drive your cars all the way from Ohio to places like Lansing, Michigan in order to carry out the orders of Cruella deVos and complain that you can't get a haircut, or your nails done, and that you want to go back to work.

First, let's talk about work.  If you were already working, then you were working remotely, and if you had the time to travel across states, then you are not working and yet still have the resources to travell across states.  That makes you blessed, beyond measure.

Second, if you really wanted a haircut and your nails done, you would have had a family member do it.  I mean, nails you can actually do yourself and if your family member jacks up your hair, big deal, who is there to see it?

Essentially, what you want to do is CONSUME.  You want to go out and be a good little consumer because that's what Unregulated American Capitalism has told you that you should be.  Your supposed "Patriotism" is tied up in being able to eat at restaurants and get your nails done and buy useless junk like plastic folding tables for picnics you will never have and floormats for your car that you don't need.   Over 70% of the stuff that we buy is non-essential. 

I'll leave you to figure it out.

Suffice it to say, what truly bugs me about seeing you cravenly crying to be able to go out and drop $50 at Cracker Barrel is that it shows that you are weak.  Weak.  Pansy.   Sissy.

Where is the America of "Greatest Generation who lived through The Depression and Fought Nazis"?

Where is the whole, "We drove across a continent to create a country?"

Your pilgrim ancestors, and your Westward Ho! ancestors and your grandparents think you are weak, and if you were alive at the time they were alive, they would have kicked your ass and told you to get back to work shoveling shit from the storm drain, because that's the only job you'd be qualified for, you mewling spit-spewing drooling moron followers of Donald Trump.

Now, you probably never made it this far in my post, but if you did, the final point is simple:  Grow up.

Grow.
Up.

Now.