I’m going on damn near two years I’ve been ranting on this thing, and I think everyone can agree that one common theme throughout the bulk of my writings would be the general stupidity of people. I mean, it never ceases to fascinate me how truly idiotic most humanoids actually are. In one respect, I suppose it’s amusing in a sad, bizarre way. But in another respect, it is freakin’ heart breaking to realize that the overwhelming majority of us hairless apes out there are batting double digit IQs.

And I’m talking beyond everyday stupidity. I’m talking beyond the feeling you get when you’re killing time at the office by playing checkers online and the cat you’re sparring with leaves such a blatantly obvious triple-jump/”king me” situation open, your jaw can’t help but drop in sheer disbelief.

OK, so maybe I take my in-office procrastination habits a little too seriously (and believe me, you would too if you had my job), but you get the picture. Sometimes people just don’t make any apologies for their idiocy. It’s like playing Texas Hold’Em with a rounder and grinning when you’re dealt a pair of bullets. You don’t leave yourself open! You put your best poker face on and let him scratch his head.

OK, I’ve already churned out two tangential analogies, so you’re probably wondering where I’m going. Well, in this instance, I’m going to Wichita. No, wait… I meant Florida. ‘Cause I cannot fathom the sheer incompetence of people who decide, “Yeah, Florida seems like a good place to set up camp.”

You dolts.

Now, let’s clear the air right now. I’m not bashing America’s geographical shlong because of old people, obscene humidity, the cost of living, crappy drivers, rednecks, recounts, or even Bubba the Love Sponge.

You people get too many fuckin’ hurricanes.

When are you simpletons gonna finally realize that your house has been without a roof for the last two weeks because you’ve been double-teamed by Category 4s. Sakes. I mean, let’s be practical, kids. When two major storms nail your home state in as many weeks, and a third is on the way, you really should consider getting the fuck outta there. Charley, Frances and Ivan just don’t make great neighbors, so doesn’t it make sense to book before they move into that condo you call Miami and tear the place a new one?

And I don’t know about the rest of my fellow bipeds, but I am getting sick and tired of all the support that is going to you people just because you’re too simple to pack a friggin’ suitcase. For the love of Bruce Campbell, show some common sense for once. Evacuate the area permanently and take an express flight to Vermont or something. I have never condoned the concept of rewarding people for their shortcomings, especially when they make the same mistake over and over despite always obtaining an identical end result.

So, in conclusion, while Charley, Frances, Ivan, and Mother Nature all take turns playing with the nation’s wang, I am more than content to be resting comfortably in the nipple region, relatively safe from any and all such masturbatory catastrophes. You really should join me.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.