Pulses, Pizzas, and Protesters

I know it’s just a minor thing, but minor things are what fuel my rabid hatred. With that being said: Dead people don’t have birthdays, not even if they were celebrities.

Having a birthday means having a pulse. It’s a celebration that you have lived another year despite doing at least two dozen things a day that should have killed you.

When the wacky morning radio show plays The Beatles’ birthday song and says “Happy 144th to Marie Curie,” it isn’t happy, nor is it her birthday. It isn’t happy because she died of horrific radiation poisoning, and it’s not her birthday because, of course, she has been dead 77 years.

So, just to clarify: breathing = birthday; dirt nap = no birthday.

On a happier note, the government decided that the economy and country were doing so well that it could finally tackle the real problem facing this country: Is pizza considered a vegetable because it has tomato sauce on it? The answer: Of course it is.

“¦ it is good to know that I can stop eating salads at lunch and pick myself up a thin-crust meat lover’s pizza as part of my new vegan lifestyle.

Why bother acknowledging the facts that a tomato is a fruit, not a vegetable, and it’s only one ingredient on the pizza? It means the government can give kids more pizza in school lunch programs because it’s cheap, yet still claim it’s giving them nutritious meals. With leadership like that, it’s no wonder most people in this country (myself included) are ginormous tubs of goo.

However, it is good to know that I can stop eating salads at lunch and pick myself up a thin-crust meat lover’s pizza as part of my new vegan lifestyle.

The new “occupy” craze that is sweeping the world has brought with it my new favorite thing, which also happens to be my new point of being enraged: the police pepper spray videos. Nothing makes me laugh more than some entitled douche catching a hot one in the eyes and mouth. It also enrages me because the cops get in trouble for it.

I’ve never been pepper sprayed, because if the police tell me to do something, I do it. If you feel your rights are being abused, get a lawyer. Yelling at a guy with a gun, Taser, nightstick, and pepper spray isn’t an argument you are likely to win.

Your right to protest ends when it interferes with my right to go about my business. If your sit-in is blocking a road I need to go down, you are in the wrong. The cops give you every chance to move; they ask, then they tell, then they warn of the consequences, then you get what you deserve.

I read an article about how one of the groups that got pepper sprayed included an 84-year-old woman and a girl who was eight months pregnant. Tough sh””t. Maybe if you are 84 or pregnant or 84 and pregnant, you shouldn’t be on the front lines of a protest, and if you are, maybe you should listen to the police. Put on your big-kid britches and deal with the consequences.

Of course, the reporters and the “hashtag occupy” crowd will tell you they weren’t doing anything “¦ and they are correct: They weren’t doing anything; the problem is the cops were telling them to do something.

They are lucky they got pepper sprayed; if this were anywhere but America, they would have been beaten and probably killed by the police or military.

About Sunny Weathers

Sunny Weathers is not fit to serve in any capacity as a juror or babysitter. And yes, that really is his last name.

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