I can’t decide if I’m on vacation or on strike.

I think it’s the latter. I simply refuse to work under these conditions. Never in my most deranged nightmares did I ever think that I could invest every last nickel and every last calorie of energy in the building of a comedy empire, only to have tippy-top secret kook konsiderations, promulgated by kook jurisdictions, impede my ability to earn a living.

It is a hard won professional distinction of mine that I am the only professional, critically acclaimed, ticket-selling comedian in American history to have been later accorded the legal status of terrorist. “You’re either with us, or you’re with the terris.” Well, we know who the good guys are now, don’t we?

Leahy. Type up whatever dog shit passes for law over there.  I’d like to have a comedy career at some point. I’ve got bills to pay. I’ve got brakes and ball joints to pay for so that I can continue exercising my right to travel. If you’re at a loss for an argument, try this one: “The decent citizens of this nation are sick and tired of the lack of legal redress to all this secret kook law. A jurisdiction that prevents legal redress is a jurisdiction not long for this world. Because in the absence of legal redress, there is no other option than the physical termination of the offending jurisdiction. So let me put this in terms you amateurs will understand: If you want a pension, see to it that the kook law goes bye bye. My constituent is quite tired of the touch pee pee game here at Ding Dong Diction USA.”

In the meantime, I want my audience members at the Sheriff’s Department to throw a twenty dollar bill out the window each time they drive by. That’ll tide me over.


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