Form: Humor

Dog. In a car. Busy commercial street.

Woman. Obviously hurried.

Obviously upper middle class.

Returns to car with elegant custom cake.

Puts cake on the seat. Shouts at dog.

Runs away. Returns 15 minutes later.

Fido has cake all over his face.

Screams at dog. Tears of frustration.

Dog sort of understands – but not really.

This is my perspective on racism.

We all follow our interests.

Do not expect people not to follow their interests.

Prevent them from following their interests.

It costs. Sure.

But it costs not to, also.

So you mean you want others to pay the cost of defense?

But you do not want to pay the cost of defense yourself?

That;s what racism is.

Don’t bitch. Do something.

http://gph.is/1YrFF7y

(I just asked the waiter for strippers. His english is limited. So he didn’t know what it meant. … Then he started laughing. And he asked me why I didnt bring any myself. )

I love to make people laugh.

(Did you ever notice how the wrong muzak can make you feel like running into the street screaming like a banshee and going all grand theft auto on every passer by that you can find? Yeah. It’s like that. Beatles especially. And no, I’m not carrying. Otherwise it’s a distinct possibility.)