Po
Boy Views
By
Phil
LaMancusa
Kitty's
Knickers
Or
Someone
Else's Problem
Lassitude:
Noun:
1. Weariness of body or mind from strain,
oppressive climate, etc.: lack of energy.
2.
A condition of indolent indifference.
Not me! Heck, it's
carnival Time! I don't care who won the last election or if the voter turnout
was less than 40% , y'all deserve whoever you didn't vote for! lol. All I care
about is if the weather on Krewe du Vieux parade night will be warmer and drier
than years past.
As you know, Valentine's
Day comes right in the heat of Carnival and I'm just kinda over that by now,
aren't you (?); you know, been there done that, got the tee shirt. We don't
want to hear (again) how grand love is. This year it's all about the substantial
stimulating of superficial senses or lack thereof. I don't want to think anymore. Party on!
Yep, I'm ready for some
street walkin' and jive talkin' and if the governor refused money so that all
of Louisianans could have health care....so what. I've worked without health
benefits for years; what did I do? I didn't get sick, and if I did and lost my
job.... well. As that last president pointed out “that's why we have Emergency
Rooms”. Listen, I have a friend and when he got mugged, he received the best care
in the world. What's all this about 'preventative care'? Shoot, take care of it
when it happens and stop being such babies!
So, I've got some
costuming to get together big time and some parading to get my fill of, should
I be worrying about equal pay for women or marriage equality for the LGBT
community or that 1% of the population controls 43% of this country's wealth;
pass me another funny colored drink.
What about my smoking?
I've got a right to kill myself if I want to; sure I know it will eventually. And, so I flip my butts into the
street, they're biodegradable ain't they? Besides, we have street sweepers out
here from four in the morning until ten at night; give 'em something to do, I
say.
Recycle? Too much trouble.
Pick up my dog's sh*t? What do you take me for, a garbage man? I have enough to
do getting a good seat in time for the game. And then there's mischief to be up
to and that hottie that waits on tables (I think she digs me); I've got to look
my best; text me and we'll hook up. Hey, did you see that that chick with the
PETA petition? You want to talk pork chops, Honey? Haw, Haw, Haw! I'm not
against animal rights or anything (they do have some, don't they?) heck, I've
never met a fried chicken that I didn't like.
Now, what do you know?
Education just took a badass cut from the people who give money to the oil
industry; ah, what the hell, you don't need much learnin' if you're gonna push
a broom, eh?
I've been told to watch my
diet, get exercise, cut down on my drinking and pay attention to my blood
pressure and cholesterol intake; but you know, later Gator, we're here to have
a good time, you know? February in New Orleans is the best, not too hot and
hopefully not too cold and it's
five o'clock somewhere! Whoo
hoo!
Personally, I've had
enough about caring what other people do or don't do; if you want things to get better, if you want love, equality, understanding
and/or justice to prevail.... go ahead, make
it happen. The world is not changing for the better and you know it; I know
it. Babies are born, loved ones die, people suffer, hearts are broken and
mended. Or not. This season it's all about me and the King Cake baby! I’ve been
hitting my head against, what is clearly, a stone wall defending right over
might; and what has it gotten me? Lumps.
And while we're on the
subject; I don't want to know about another of our people in uniform getting
hurt in a war that's all about some fat cat's greed. Or another politician
who's been caught with his pants down, his hand in the till or up somebody's skirt.
I don't want to hear about another home invasion, police brutality,
homelessness or your pothole riddled streets. Planned parenthood is on the
ropes? Your fault, not mine. I'm taking this year off from caring. I've had
enough, you need help? Try the Lone Ranger. I'm out on the town! Gone pecan!
If your car runs like an
old tin can, your wife ran off with another man, you've sprained a muscle in
you fishin' hand and your income tax is due; don't tell me, it's carnival time
and I'm going to have a light heart and a cheerful countenance or know the
reason why not. Come Lent I may repent but right now, I'm goin' for comfortably
numb.
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