Be on the Alert

Why?

Why do you want to live life continually “on the alert” for things which may or may not, happen?

Go gives a flying shit anyway (as if shit could fly)?

I am drawing the line on alerts.

I just got an alert from my bank telling me “you have no alerts at this time.”

Really.

Enough already.

I know, there are good alerts, but very few:

Missing children.

Lost or stolen doggies.

Extreme weather warnings.

Impending doom or death.

Sex offenders living in the area.

But when I am over everything (as I keep telling the Domestic Despot), there will be a few changes.

The reinstatement of the Code of Hammurabi.

There WON’T be any alerts issued for the stock market no matter where any market exists. That’s like giving alerts to all the members gathered around a crap table and issuing warnings every time they moved their chips from one bet to the other.

Does that sounds a silly as it did writing it?

There will be ONE WARNING and it is the ONLY WARNING you will receive as long as you are on this side of  God’s Green Earth:

***Warning***

Anything and everything can kill you.

I certainly am an up-with-life kinda guy today this morning.

Getting an alert because the price of dying just went down in the form of cheaper tacos, yeah, there ya go marketing department.

You are doing your jobs and the better you do your jobs, the more kids will contract diabetes, the more open-heart surgeries will have to be performed in last gasp efforts to exist, and the more money will be thrown at the problem.

Now that is pretty fucked up my friends,

The treadmill we guinea pigs are running on will continue until the machine breaks down.

“And when the machine breaks down, we break down,” to quote Sgt. Barnes in Oliver Stone’s masterpiece on the duality of man and war.

That is still compelling viewing, the mark of a great movie, n’est ce pas?

Too bad people don’t come with warnings.

It would have saved me a lot of bullshit and money in the course of my life due to my naivete.

Way too trusting of people.

I suppose it was due to the insular childhood I lived that I became so independent at such an early age.

That didn’t make sense, but somehow rings true.

I thought I had it all figured out.

I had all the answers.

At fifteen years of age.

When you are fifteen everything should have an alert. I think it is right around the age of fifteen when you are capable of some really dumb-shit decisions.

Harmful decisions.

No alerts for mishandling money.

I have no tolerance for that.

It is the most simple basic arithmetic to start with a sum and never let it get to zero and always be current on all your bills.

This will all be taken care of in the Utopian society which will occur when I am over everything.

Karen just rolled her eyes again.

Stay well.

Published by maddogg09

I am an unmotivated genius with an extreme love for anything that moves the emotional needles of our lives.

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