And I’m going to pit the entire world. Or at least everyone and everything that needs to be yelled at. I’ve spent a long time wondering exactly what personal responsability is, and why it should fall on the shoulders of those who understand the concept of it. It should be common sense, no?
First up, the obese. Not the overweight, but the obese. I’m sure everyone reading this can relate needing to lose a few pounds, but this is for the super-chunky body with extra thick gravy blood crowd.
Hey tubby! You! Yes, you! I see you with your super sized Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese and a Diet Coke. I’m having the same thing, sans onions and Diet Coke. I perfer Sprite myself. Well, we’re the same height. We’re about the same age. How old are you, anyway? Twenty two? Oh, so you’ve got me by a few months. Ok. How much do you weigh? What? Its none of my business? It will be when your doublewide rump ends up on disability because you’ve had a stroke or heart attack. Oh, you’re two hundred fifty? C’mon…you’re pulling my leg! I would have guessed five hundred. No? Not five? You sure? Oh, so its closer to three fifty? I can see that. Yea, I can see that. Are you happy with your body? I figured you wern’t. So…what are you doing to take care of it? You work out? Cool! Great! What do you do? Um hum…you walk a quarter mile twice a week? How quickly do you get it done in? Six minutes…you don’t say!? Is that all? No? Well, then what else? Oh, you mow the lawn? Walk behind power mower? Oh, I see. Yea, lawn tractors can be hard to ride. Oh, and you climb stairs at work? Ten stories a day? Great! Oh, wait, you work in a two story building. How about eating? You eat your vegatables? No? Salads? NO? Why not? Oh, I see, you don’t like the flavor. Well, tell you what. You want to lose the weight? I’ll help you. Come by my office later, and we’ll get you a flightline badge so you can run with the rest of our squadron for our morning PT. No, no, its nothing! I insist! Oh, come on, we only run five miles each day! Its not that much! Well, I can get you a moment with Capt. Davis to get a nutrition guide set up for you. No? But…I thought you wern’t happy with your weight? I see. Ok, well, when you have that heart attack, remember Sgt Fush. I told you so.
(This occured at the McDonalds on Highway 15 South, on Sept 2nd, 2003. I was asked to depart the premises for harassing one of their best customers.)
Second, pretenders. Specifically one member of the City Council who lays claim to being a disabled Vietnam Veteran. No Purple Heart, no! He’s eighty percent disabled due to diabetes from Agent Orange.
Excuse me. I couldn’t help but overhear you say you’re disabled due to Agent Orange. Really? You sure? Tell me about it, I love to hear war stories. Yes, I’m Air Force. See, its what the name tape says. Oh, you were a Marine? In country from '67-'73 you say? Oh, ok, I stand corrected. '67, '68, '69, and '73. What was your MOS? 0331, machine gunner, right? See! I knew it. Well, go on. Oh, so you remember being sprayed a few times by this light orange mist and that it burned your skin and made you pee blood? Hmm…interesting. Go on. Oh, your counselor from the VA said that it must have come from exposure to Agent Orange. Where’d you get it the most? When you were near Cam Ranh Bay? Are you sure? Hmmm…let me get this straight, you were sprayed with an orange colored liquid in '67. Yep? And in ‘68? And ‘69? And ‘73? I see. So…your diabetes comes from Agent Orange and not being a self-proclaimed hard fightin’ hard drinkin’ hard lovin’ Marine? Fella, you’re full of shit. Oh, so your disabled ass is going to wipe the floor of this here Waffle House with my ass? I’ve got you dead to rights on your lies. Oh, I don’t know what went on there? I’m too young to know what happened? Uh huh…you do know that all of our ground forces were gone by '72, right? Oh, you were on ‘covert’ missions? I seel. Spying and such? Um hum…You do know that Agent Orange isn’t linked to diabetes, only soft-tissue sarcomas, non-Hodgkins limphoma, chloracne and some respratory cancers? And that it was colorless, odorless and was named for the stripe on the shipping container, and that of the individuals who flew in Operation Ranch Hand often drank the stuff to show how ‘tough’ they were, with no long term ill effects? OH! You’re having a flashback!? I’ve never see this in real life before! Brenden the cook isn’t going to throw me out, I have yet to break any of the resturant’s rules! And if you’re so fucking diabetic, why the hell are you eating strawberry waffles and drinking Coca-Cola?! I ought to take your ass to the VA and show how much a fraud you are! Ok Brenden, I’ll leave. Sorry about the trouble. And you, you lying sack of shit, if I ever, EVER hear you’ve been spreading these lies again I WILL WASH THE FLOOR OF THIS HERE WAFFLE HOUSE WITH YOUR CRIPPLED DIABETIC ASS!
(Occured around 5pm on July 4, 2003, at the Waffle House on the 1000 block of Broad Street. The manager later thanked me, as he wanted to say the same stuff but couldn’t as the fraud was a paying customer.)
Third, believers in the racism hue and cry. No, you’re not being discriminated against. Want real descrimination? Lets watch some tapes from the '60s.
Sorry, you can keep your flier. No, I’m not all that into politics. Well, whats your cause about? Racism, huh? Yea, thats what my mother said. She was always like “Fush, you must stick together with people who aren’t white.” So I’m half-Korean, half-white. Yep, I’ve got a lot of black friends, who doesn’t? I see. You believe that this school is racist? Why do you say that USC-Sumter is racist? Oh, because you were failed out. What reason did they give? Missing too many classes? Yep, bummer. One of my best friends got it, and he was deployed to Germany! No, no, my friend was white. Oh, so that’s ok? Color me confused, but why is that ok? Because he’s white? But its not ok because you’re black? I see. Well, tell me, how many days did you miss? Twenty six? Good God! What happened? You were in the hospital? Didn’t you take your excuse to Dr. Lynwood? Oh, so it only covered four days. What about the other ones? A trip? School related? No? Hmm…what for? Really, a two week vacation at the beach. How was it? Well, I’m glad you had fun. But, why is the school racist for failing you because you spent fourteen days at the beach? Oh, I’m sorry, when you said two weeks, I assumed fourteen days. I didn’t know it was only twelve. So, because they weren’t willing to give you incompletes for leaving school for a beach trip, you’re saying they’re racist? How many other blacks got tossed last semester? Two more that you know of? Why? One failed out and the other got caught with drugs? Huh, yep, its got to be racism. Listen, bo, it ain’t racism. Take some fucking responsability for your own actions and keep your flyer.
(Occured in Sept of 2002, outside the Jack Anderson Library at the University of South Carolina, Sumter.)
I’m sorry, but I can’t go on. I guess I’m not Superman after all. I’ll be back after I recharge my batteries.