New Orleans Beer Thirty Thoughts

Po Boy Views
By
Phil LaMancusa
The Harder They Fall
Or
Mother Superior… Jump The Gun
Don’t you think that inconsideration is a crime? Don’t you think that inconsideration should be a crime?
And now you’ll ask: “Phil, How did you get mouse-trapped onto this subject?” The answer is that Phil has noticed that more and more morons disguised as fellow citizens are running rampant through his calm lifestyle and centered aura causing chaos, consternation and confusion. And just what does Phil consider inconsideration?
How about the jerk that zips into a no parking zone to jump out for coffee, the young lady that decides to lounge across three bus seats or how about the seventeen year old mother that puts four inches of cold steel into a bus driver’s chest because she doesn’t want to move her stroller from the aisle; I’d say that they are being inconsiderate and need corrected. Possibly some form of sensitivity counseling.
How about those construction workers that clean their paint brushes into the storm drains that flow directly to the lake, the guy who lets his dog have a bowel movement on the sidewalk where you will eventually step or the litterbugs that have insulted our city with their trash thrown hither and yon like so much urban flotsam and jetsam; offensive in the least, inconsiderate to the max. Kind of like that guy who pumped four bullets into that other guy and left him dead in that neighborhood known for it’s crime, poverty and abandoned buildings. How’s that for inconsideration? (I’ve been told that it would be inconsiderate of me to name names of names and places of murders, killings, mayhem, senseless brutality or other wanton crimes involving the taking of another’s life, liberty or the pursuit. Go figure.) Wouldn’t a support group help?
I swear, with all the attention that I’m paying to inconsideration in New Orleans, it’s all I can do to keep up with the national and international inconsiderations that are going on. How about those pesky uranium enrichment programs going on in those countries that hate our guts and the horse that we rode in on? Is that not more inconsiderate than that sticker that someone put on my car that says “Dip Me In Honey And Feed Me To The Lesbians”? How rude can you get?
Car stickers and tee shirts. Should I be subjected to the flagrant sordid misuse of our language and customs? Do I need to know that that woman is with someone that she calls “Stupid”? And, it doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to know that anyone that gets “Bourbon Faced on Shit Street” is not a member of the jeunesse doree. AND… don’t get me started on whoever began the fashion faux pas of young men with their trousers slung below their buttocks.
Yo, how about that ding bat that just turned their SUV onto my street crossing butt with no turn signal because they had one hand on the steering wheel and the other on their cell phone. Or the person on the cell phone in the check out line or at the restaurant table while the waiter waits (?) to take their order; who do they think they are…DeForrest Kelly?
How inconsiderate is it for super heroes to desert me in my times of need? How often have I looked for the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, Cupid and the Great Pumpkin in an exercise doomed to result only in heartbreak? I may as well look for the Mayor or the recyclers or some common friggin’ sense in politics. At least I still have my Obamas.
Now, this is not a rant; so what if my dog just stepped in someone’s tossed chewing gum and I have to figure out a way to extract her from it. No biggie, right? And yeah, I don’t mind painting over someone’s non-art scribbling on the doorframe of the building where I live. Also, I never, ever think about how cigarette butts make up twenty-five percent of all litter and that, shucks, chicken bones and banana peels are organic so it’s okay to throw them from your car window. What the hell do you take me for…the P.C. Police?
Politically corrected people can be a pain in the ass to be around because as Rosanne Rosannadanna would say “It’s always something!” If it’s not puppy mills, over packaging, second hand smoke, care of the elderly, junk food, animal testing, slave labor, pollutants, or ozone layers, it’s the entire GOP. Nothing is sacred to these people: guns, leather, fur, cigars, meat, litter, landfills, chemicals, strip mining, clear cutting and coastal erosion, they’re against them (!) --- you know, American stuff, like gas sucking vehicles, nuclear proliferation, inflated pricing, Chinese imports, Sam Walton and The Army Corps of Engineers. Everything that we hold near and dear to our way of life is under a microscope with these people.
What’s next? Contact sports? Bigotry? Public drunkenness? Irresponsibility? Inconsideration? Can’t a guy spit on the sidewalk without someone looking at him like he’s some kind of terrorist?
Listen, I’ve got rights too. It clearly states in the Constitution that I got the right to Sex, drugs and Rock n’ Roll…Amen. I didn’t come from no damn ape; I am a descendent of Adam and Eve and those other guys. We ain’t got no call to go into outer space, if God wanted us to fly he would have given us wings. And I’m a Budweiser Baptist, if you must know, and there’s nothing like a little talk radio for getting your facts straight. Gimme that old time religion and I’ll give up my gun when they pry it out of my cold dead hands and then they can dip me in honey and feed me to the lesbians!
I’m an American just like you and I dare you to tell me that marriage isn’t sacred, hell, ask any of my ex-wives.
Gee it’s great talkin’ to you guys, can I get another beer and one of them Slim Jims? I don’t care what anyone says, this is the best damn country on the planet… except for them inconsiderate schmucks. Say, don’t you think that inconsideration is a crime?