Tuesday, October 9, 2007

to all you greeks...abzorba this message



lately, i have been thinking about an oppressed section of our labor force. no, i am not talking about coal miners, although i once thought about having sex with a miner, but i tend to guard against going to prison, and it was too coal outside anyway. instead, i had sex with a coal porter and i sang "i've got you under my foreskin" through it all. she said "you're sensational" and told me "she got a kick of me". now, in the still of the night and day, my thoughts drift under the boardwalk back to doris, like mammories pressed between the pages of my mind.
no, i am thinking of another group of workers. these workers routinely must work nights, and when they work overtime, they are not paid for it. they are not even allowed lunch breaks, and can not smoke anywhere near their place of work. often before and after their day of work, they are forced to talk to strange white men they barely know. yes, this oppressed modern worker is the pro athlete. manny of you may disagree with this, but my friend ramirez agrees with me. the revolution will solve this problem by instituting amanda joe torre 30 minute lunch break during all sporting events. furthermore, all players will be compensated at their going per hour salary rate for any overtime games they play. the money could be raised by a further gutting of public transit and the elimination of the federal school lunch program for poor children.
thoughts... i believe all races should be treated equally, and that is why it drives me crazy when the 100 yard dash is discriminated against. someone should file a lawsuit that would nail this issue on the head. it would take someone with a lot of heart and backbone, someone who already has their foot in the door and who could hand those in power a de-feet. let's face it, who nose such a person? well, i'll keep my eyes open, and try to get my fingers on him, perhaps i'll even compile an index of possible people who need people, because they are the luckiest people in the world. lucky strikes, because he needs more pay and health insurance. personally, i feel he is an uncle tom, son, but he did get a sexy sound out of the soporno. the tenor of this blog may be confusing to some, but i'm sure pinko will trumpet my sentiments. i'm blogging from my parents place again, and thoughts of joe hunt come back to me. the joe hunt for red garland october on october the 7th continues. more somber thoughts also arise. perhaps it is only when the last art farmer has been kicked off his harold land, and the last jimmy forest has been destroyed and the flowers from the last judy garland have been picked and the last billy ocean has been poisoned, and all of the the johnny and joan rivers have been polluted, perhaps then we will realize that we can not eat money.
having said that, it is easier to have the grant green than not to have it. however, most americans spend so much time working that they don't have many idle moments. it makes me blue mitchell just thinking about it, and even if sonny had redd my mind, i would still feel the same way.
i kramden a viewing of the honeymooners last week in my office. now, i am running through a meadow with my friend audrey, and even the rainn wilson can't ruin my mood.
smash the state...and the country

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