These lyrics from a Ramblin’ Roy Derien song, Let’s Get Drunk and Watch TV, ring true. “I just don’t fit in anywhere; maybe there’s a party somewhere, but I don’t care. What’s going on outside? I don’t know the score. Someone else has friends, but I don’t have none anymore,” sums it up. Thrust into a situation or position of authority that you’re clearly incapable of performing. Similar to what’s happening here and the rest of this mad world at the moment.
There have been times like this in the history of the world. No time for losers. Time for fascists. We have failed megalomaniacs who are incapable of doing anything other than spewing hate-filled vitriol towards anyone who defies them, mainly their perceived enemies which includes everyone who ain't white, god-fearing, flag-waving, Bible-thumping patriots. If you see something you don’t want to see, then change the channel. It’s your movie. If you hear them making noise that makes you feel uncomfortable, change the subject. They’re the architects of disaster, chaos, and destruction writhing in your head on full display. We know who they are. They are the self-appointed kings with the faceless kingmakers who spawned them.
Perhaps you see it differently; these woefully misguided mavericks are just trying to look out for our best interests. Maybe they really care about the future welfare of all people. Nah! Highly unlikely. It’s obvious they only care about themselves. Riding a golden commode on a mission to Mars is close enough to the truth of what's occurring. We don’t fit the bill. Never did, never will. Why would anyone want to be part of this mess? The people that voted for or against the cruel insanity fomenting right now are complicit in this. They should be held accountable, or at least feel ashamed for their lame-ass actions. They won’t be, and they don’t feel anything at all. More for them; bless their hearts. Their black souls are colder than your liquid-lunch cocktails. The ice cubes are melting. Blame it on climate change. No free drinks around here. It’s watered down, so weak.
You must be deaf, dumb, and blind to believe they’re looking out for what’s best for the little people. I’d trust a beggar before I’d believe a billionaire. I wouldn’t buy a used car or a new one from any of those arrogant, self-serving, obtuse old white men. They have no joy or zest for life. They live in a vacuum of greed, fear, and violence. The unholy trinity of every oligarch.
Kissing ass ain’t easy. It’s a tough job nobody wants, and nobody cares to do it. As long as the day is short, watch your freedoms go down the toilet. This is how it should end. No pretentious bang, no angels singing hymns, strumming harps and blowing trumpets, no sorrows whimpering through the backside of the wind, only a quick flush, whoosh. All your freedom’s gone. Reality implodes, reinventing itself as a TV show. Have you seen enough? It looks like you are a wackadoodle wing nut. A mere apprentice to your termination. Stick out your sore thumb and bump your toe.
Maybe you should reexamine your brand portfolio. Make some cuts to the federal workforce? Slash the budget. A loner who doesn’t take prisoners. The firebrand wild child or Bohemian Beatnik offspring of dim-witted eccentric nabobs for noncompliant nincompoops. Collector of dusty politics. Knick-knacks and discontinued promotional merchandise. All that cheap crappy stuff, poorly manufactured swag made in China, Mexico, or, heaven forbid, the likes of Canada. The crypt keeper of cryptocurrency, gold sneakers, and autographed bibles in a room full of skulls. The return of the messiah ain’t got nothing on this lusty recluse from Epstein’s fantasy island. In the realm of misfits, like broken toys of the past, so lonely, but they enjoy being outcast hermits. Excluded from the country club, thrown out of the Masonic temple, and expelled from the untouchables, they’re a little too scuzzy to allow indoors. Feral animals roaming the streets searching for food. A nation of immigrants. Not allowed in the gene pool. They eat your pets for lunch.
The hordes of illegals storming the gates of heaven looking for a crumb from the table of the kingdom. Here we sit, brokenhearted. Odd man out shooting dead rotting fish in a barrel. The freakish oddity, crazy sicko, psychotic perv bozo at the dog and pony show. The roaming free and easy spirits trapped in the prison of their crowded cranium. Just another dizzy deviant on the loose. Left to their own devices like human centipedes, they stick their snouts in other people’s rears and follow the leader. No matter how hard you bang your heads, squeezing against the grain, it won’t stop the slap-in-your-face world for all those other miscreants who don’t fit, get, or deserve another facsimile thereof. Maybe they never had a chance.