I hear this a lot, "Well, it's easy to criticize the office of the President, but I doubt you even know what you'd do differently." So, that got me thinking, uh, yeah I have tons of practical ideas. Now, I know that the system is more complicated than that. We don't live in a tyrannical realm where one person makes these decisions. However, the office of the President is a powerful position that has been used irresponsibly in recent years, landing and keeping us in a dreadful recession.
So what would I do differently?
Honestly, I'd create a flat tax. You'd have to be reasonable about it. For instance you couldn't implement the tax on any individual making less than $28,000 a year as an individual or $56,000 as a married couple. And it should be a small percentage as well, since it won't wipe out state taxes, medicare or social security taxes. I'm thinking if we charged a 5% tax on EVERYONE making over the aforementioned amounts, we'd kick ass. We'd have to do away with loopholes for everyone, which would suck, but there's no point in a flat tax if there's a way to get around it. On top of that, the social security tax is not taxed on all amounts over $106,800 so those amount over 106,800 will be charged an extra 2%. That's what I think, but that's just me.
I also decided that churches today are righteous examples of tax evasion. Not all of them, just lots of them. Consider that tithes paid to a church are considered charitable donations. I personally feel like churches should have to prove their charitable works in order to maintain tax free/exempt or lower tax status. I don't feel like we should impose a tax on churches, but I feel if they're existing as a charitable entity and are enjoying benefits of this representation there should be an audit of sorts to maintain these churches are not abusing the system.
I actually have no desire to BE President, which is awesome since there has never been a female President and I doubt I'll see that in my lifetime. Just because I don't want the awesome responsibility of the office doesn't mean I don't have some constructive criticism for that which is in power at the time of this blog.
Here's a few hints for those in power right now:
Pelosi: You're a witch and a wretched representation of your race. You suck. Ass. Seriously, nobody likes your overcompensating power hungry push for power. Reign it in and be responsible.
Reid: Grow a pair.
Obama: You're a bully and you're using bully tactics to get your way since you can't get a majority support. Don't think having your Dem friends will help you if they lose majority in the Fall. You're too late, though. You've not done enough to preserve Americans or their livelihood and you haven't even tried to be partisan - the very foundation of our success. You, also, Suck.
I have a couple other thoughts. Unemployment benefits should not be extended past six months. I have spoken to many unemployed and I have to say a few things on the matter. Unemployment officers do not do enough to help those on unemployment seek new employment. I know people who don't know how to successfully apply to job postings online, yet the vast majority of companies hire via emailed resumes or online applications. I know of many others who know the system and choose not to seek employment actively. Also, instead of discouraging applicants from attending college to better their chances of hire, direct them toward online universities. These do exist and should be a tool offered by Unemployment offices.
I have a few more ideas, but I'm being called away right now. These are my thoughts and thankfully I live in a free country where I can share them.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Saga of Edwin the Cat
Yeah, so like I said, we got a cat. Thanks, Kris. In the grand tradition of animals in my family, he's a bit insane. Like Calamity Kam, the Kamikaze dog. Speaking of Kam. I think I mentioned her obsession with Edwin's peanuts. It's really embarrassing. She's zeroed in on them. She gets her nose under the cat, flips him over and the snout is glued to the poor kitty's testicles. Poor Edwin. He hardly seems to notice since while he's upside down like that he can play with her rabies tags. Demented animals. Kam has been temporarily imprisoned several times for molestation charges against the minor cat, but I think the penal system is failing her.
You'd think Ed would want to stay clear of his violator, but instead he stalks her. He's the vengeful type. His favorite hiding spot is the laundry basket. It's one of those Ikea collapsible deals, so he's very invisible. He crouches down in there, while it's collapsed mind you, and watches Kam run around the living room in circles. Then, when she's least expecting it, PAM! Killer Kitty attacks! He's like the size of my hand and Kam is about the size of my 4 year old, so it's rather disproportionate. Edwin pounces on the tail, mostly, then runs away like a bat outta hell and hides under the bed, where Kam can still get him since she's skinnier than a devoted bulimic.
Though unphazed by my admittedly perverted dog, who before now I was certain was a lesbian but now I'm only sure that she has huge confusion issues; Edwin likes to avoid Kaitlyn. I can understand this one since I've caught Kaitlyn throwing the kitten and carrying him around in a full nelson. Just for the record, convincing a 4 year old that the way to a kitten's heart is to ignore it is like trying to explain to her how water got on Mars. Before reporting my family to animal cruelty personnel it's important to understand that my daughter is very much like me. As such, my daughter can't throw for a damn. She just kinda tosses him up onto beds, which isn't so bad, but probably feels like a roller coaster from hell to a five week old kitten.
Speaking of animal-family relations, did I mention my husband insisted he didn't want a cat? There's a story there, of course. When Patrick and I met, he had a gluttonous calico monster named Nala. Nala was about 14 and weighed close to 40 lbs. Seriously. Fatter then Garfield. When I was pregnant Nala decided she needed to establish her superiority. When my behemoth preggo belly was big enough to show little pre-baby movements she would pounce and claw my stomach. Yeah. Evil little witch. THEN, when we set up the nursery, she peed under the crib, on the crib, under the play pen and in the play pen. Everywhere we set something up for the new baby the cat pissed. So.... I laid down the law. Mom beats Cat, every time. We went to Ruth, the MIL, who had been the original owner of said monster. As nicely as I could I explained to the mother in law that if she did not take the cat I would be forced to drive to the middle of Burriville, RI, and dump Nala in the most hawk infested woods I could find. Not that I thought the hawks could carry her off, I mean, she was huge, but I'm not sure Ruth made that connection. Nala would probably have loved it. All the squirrels she could eat. Anyway. Ruth took the Nala and the baby was saved from the premeditated murder plans of the Demon Calico.
After the loss of Nala, Patrick proclaimed to be done with animals. This gave way to my insistence of a dog (enter Calamity Kam). After Kam he wanted no more pets of any nature. This transitions into my a fore mentioned fear of mice. After the discovery of the midget mouse in the garage Kristin agreed it was time to pay me back for the cat I got her. Not that she didn't want a new kitty, she did, she just ended up getting more than she bargained for... Oh, by the way, in case no one has ever told you this, New England mice are deceptively tiny. You know those little mouse toys for cats? Yeah. Smaller. They're like invisible mice. You'd never know if you had one til you found a dead one in your garage. Just saying. But I digress...
When Kristin brought over the fur ball who became Edwin the Cat, Patrick's initial response was, "You didn't! What the hell?!" Terrified, Kristin proclaimed that I owed her as she drove away. The next morning Patrick woke up early just so he could play with Edwin. No joke. I woke up and Patrick's been up for half an hour getting Edwin to chase a ribbon, giggling like a little boy with a shiny new truck. The next night Edwin slept under Patrick's left hand like a manly blanket. "I'm too sexy for a blanket." Cuddled, the two of them slept the night away peacefully. A man and his cat. Last night I went to bed about three hours after everyone else. As I wandered into my bedroom to change into pajamas and pretend to read my poetry assignments I noticed Edwin did not need my husband's hand for warmth on this night. He was sound asleep with his head on my pillow snuggled under my clean clothes which I had neglected to hang up as of yet. Totally need to hang those up... Kitten on my side of the bed was a bit much. I threw the clothes on the ground (sanitary, I know) and forced the cat to the foot of the bed. I thought I'd conquered my man stealing kitten until he snuck back up toward my hands and proceeded to attack them for several minutes. It's like he's training for a boxing match for mad cats. Pounce, weave, duck, claw, bite dodge, weave, etc. This went on for quite some time while I tried to ignore the pathetically tiny claws and teeth and he gave up secure in his superiority that he'd put me in my place.
So, just to wrap up. I have a stealthy male cat in love with my husband, a completely insane dog with sexual confusion issues that include gender confusion and special boundaries, and a 4 year old who loves to torment them both.
Who wouldn't want to live at my house?
You'd think Ed would want to stay clear of his violator, but instead he stalks her. He's the vengeful type. His favorite hiding spot is the laundry basket. It's one of those Ikea collapsible deals, so he's very invisible. He crouches down in there, while it's collapsed mind you, and watches Kam run around the living room in circles. Then, when she's least expecting it, PAM! Killer Kitty attacks! He's like the size of my hand and Kam is about the size of my 4 year old, so it's rather disproportionate. Edwin pounces on the tail, mostly, then runs away like a bat outta hell and hides under the bed, where Kam can still get him since she's skinnier than a devoted bulimic.
Though unphazed by my admittedly perverted dog, who before now I was certain was a lesbian but now I'm only sure that she has huge confusion issues; Edwin likes to avoid Kaitlyn. I can understand this one since I've caught Kaitlyn throwing the kitten and carrying him around in a full nelson. Just for the record, convincing a 4 year old that the way to a kitten's heart is to ignore it is like trying to explain to her how water got on Mars. Before reporting my family to animal cruelty personnel it's important to understand that my daughter is very much like me. As such, my daughter can't throw for a damn. She just kinda tosses him up onto beds, which isn't so bad, but probably feels like a roller coaster from hell to a five week old kitten.
Speaking of animal-family relations, did I mention my husband insisted he didn't want a cat? There's a story there, of course. When Patrick and I met, he had a gluttonous calico monster named Nala. Nala was about 14 and weighed close to 40 lbs. Seriously. Fatter then Garfield. When I was pregnant Nala decided she needed to establish her superiority. When my behemoth preggo belly was big enough to show little pre-baby movements she would pounce and claw my stomach. Yeah. Evil little witch. THEN, when we set up the nursery, she peed under the crib, on the crib, under the play pen and in the play pen. Everywhere we set something up for the new baby the cat pissed. So.... I laid down the law. Mom beats Cat, every time. We went to Ruth, the MIL, who had been the original owner of said monster. As nicely as I could I explained to the mother in law that if she did not take the cat I would be forced to drive to the middle of Burriville, RI, and dump Nala in the most hawk infested woods I could find. Not that I thought the hawks could carry her off, I mean, she was huge, but I'm not sure Ruth made that connection. Nala would probably have loved it. All the squirrels she could eat. Anyway. Ruth took the Nala and the baby was saved from the premeditated murder plans of the Demon Calico.
After the loss of Nala, Patrick proclaimed to be done with animals. This gave way to my insistence of a dog (enter Calamity Kam). After Kam he wanted no more pets of any nature. This transitions into my a fore mentioned fear of mice. After the discovery of the midget mouse in the garage Kristin agreed it was time to pay me back for the cat I got her. Not that she didn't want a new kitty, she did, she just ended up getting more than she bargained for... Oh, by the way, in case no one has ever told you this, New England mice are deceptively tiny. You know those little mouse toys for cats? Yeah. Smaller. They're like invisible mice. You'd never know if you had one til you found a dead one in your garage. Just saying. But I digress...
When Kristin brought over the fur ball who became Edwin the Cat, Patrick's initial response was, "You didn't! What the hell?!" Terrified, Kristin proclaimed that I owed her as she drove away. The next morning Patrick woke up early just so he could play with Edwin. No joke. I woke up and Patrick's been up for half an hour getting Edwin to chase a ribbon, giggling like a little boy with a shiny new truck. The next night Edwin slept under Patrick's left hand like a manly blanket. "I'm too sexy for a blanket." Cuddled, the two of them slept the night away peacefully. A man and his cat. Last night I went to bed about three hours after everyone else. As I wandered into my bedroom to change into pajamas and pretend to read my poetry assignments I noticed Edwin did not need my husband's hand for warmth on this night. He was sound asleep with his head on my pillow snuggled under my clean clothes which I had neglected to hang up as of yet. Totally need to hang those up... Kitten on my side of the bed was a bit much. I threw the clothes on the ground (sanitary, I know) and forced the cat to the foot of the bed. I thought I'd conquered my man stealing kitten until he snuck back up toward my hands and proceeded to attack them for several minutes. It's like he's training for a boxing match for mad cats. Pounce, weave, duck, claw, bite dodge, weave, etc. This went on for quite some time while I tried to ignore the pathetically tiny claws and teeth and he gave up secure in his superiority that he'd put me in my place.
So, just to wrap up. I have a stealthy male cat in love with my husband, a completely insane dog with sexual confusion issues that include gender confusion and special boundaries, and a 4 year old who loves to torment them both.
Who wouldn't want to live at my house?
Monday, April 5, 2010
Haven't Blogged in ages....
So. I read a really awesome blog today and it reminded me that I'm a blogging failure and haven't blogged in ages. So, here I am.
What has happened in the last six months or more??? Jeez. Where to begin? I was going to write about all the depressing shit in my life and then decided no one really wants to know. Most don't care. Seriously, if you're a friend of mine or on Facebook you already know most of what goes on in my life, so writing about it here is superfluous.
Superfluous, adverb. Redundant. More than necessary. Excessive.
My girlfriend gave my daughter a cat. This many of ya'll don't know. I'm not normally a cat person, but I have this paralyzing fear of mice. Seriously. When we bought this house I had nightmares about mice for like a year. We live right across the street from a lake surrounded by huge pine trees. Yeah. We get mice out here. Once I had a dream that we had a mouse in the house. The mouse was on the staircase and he had a mickey mouse Fantasia magician hat, but he looked like a big field mouse. And, BTW, Walt Disney, mice are not cute and it is just sick that you immortalized this rodent to deceive children into loving something as sick as mice. Just saying. Anyway, in the dream, the wizard mouse was able to paralyze me with his beady stare. He didn't even need a wand! What the hell? He paralyzed me with his beady stare and opened my fridge and stole all my food. Bastard.
So, I'm okay with the cat. He's actually kind of cute. Edwin is his name. He's an itty bitty fur ball who hates me, but he's cute. I feed him, I clean his poop, I rescue him from my dog who is obsessed with his little peanuts... And yet, he sleeps with the husband. But, he's being trained to chase away the demented Disney mice. Yessss.... He doesn't know it yet but as soon as big enough to fight off the hawks and random bald eagles out here his butt is getting kicked OUT! Not like, totally out, just long enough during the day to stalk the mice that haunt my house.
Yeah. I should probably admit that Patrick is certain I'm just insane and the mice are not real. He found a dead one in the garage, but the crazy wife is just overreacting.
I'm mostly just concerned that Edwin will feel the need to present the imaginary mice to Patrick on our bed.
What has happened in the last six months or more??? Jeez. Where to begin? I was going to write about all the depressing shit in my life and then decided no one really wants to know. Most don't care. Seriously, if you're a friend of mine or on Facebook you already know most of what goes on in my life, so writing about it here is superfluous.
Superfluous, adverb. Redundant. More than necessary. Excessive.
My girlfriend gave my daughter a cat. This many of ya'll don't know. I'm not normally a cat person, but I have this paralyzing fear of mice. Seriously. When we bought this house I had nightmares about mice for like a year. We live right across the street from a lake surrounded by huge pine trees. Yeah. We get mice out here. Once I had a dream that we had a mouse in the house. The mouse was on the staircase and he had a mickey mouse Fantasia magician hat, but he looked like a big field mouse. And, BTW, Walt Disney, mice are not cute and it is just sick that you immortalized this rodent to deceive children into loving something as sick as mice. Just saying. Anyway, in the dream, the wizard mouse was able to paralyze me with his beady stare. He didn't even need a wand! What the hell? He paralyzed me with his beady stare and opened my fridge and stole all my food. Bastard.
So, I'm okay with the cat. He's actually kind of cute. Edwin is his name. He's an itty bitty fur ball who hates me, but he's cute. I feed him, I clean his poop, I rescue him from my dog who is obsessed with his little peanuts... And yet, he sleeps with the husband. But, he's being trained to chase away the demented Disney mice. Yessss.... He doesn't know it yet but as soon as big enough to fight off the hawks and random bald eagles out here his butt is getting kicked OUT! Not like, totally out, just long enough during the day to stalk the mice that haunt my house.
Yeah. I should probably admit that Patrick is certain I'm just insane and the mice are not real. He found a dead one in the garage, but the crazy wife is just overreacting.
I'm mostly just concerned that Edwin will feel the need to present the imaginary mice to Patrick on our bed.
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