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est. 02.27.02

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July 2006

Requiem for a Budget
this... drives... most... people... crazy | Wednesday, 07.05.06
My state is budgetless. No one's really sure how it happened, we all just woke up one day and saw that the DMV was closed, lotto machines were shut down, and now Atlantic City is surrounded by a giant roll of yellow "Do Not Cross" tape. I'd hate to be the casino worker who has to herd a bunch of angry, soulless drunks out of the casino after their 37-hour benders of nickel slots and complimentary whiskey-sours. The boardwalk probably looks like a scene out of Dawn of the Dead... or maybe even the less popular Day of the Dead, where they herded all the zombies into holding pens and Bub the Wacky Zombie is listening to his headphones and saluting twisted militants in a deliciously sinister turn-of-events (NWS). Or maybe no one's there, I honestly don't know because it's like two hours away from me and there's not much to do in Atlantic City besides gamble and pay for sex... unless the whores work for the state, which, in that case, there's absolutely nothing to do in Atlantic City until this whole thing blows over.

As you can see here, the skyscrapers are falling, while the slices of pie are staying relatively multicolored and delicious. Also, watch out for the dotted purple line, as it is on a crash course with marketability, productivity and company-wide synergy.
The budget crisis couldn't have come at a worse time - even the Fourth of July celebration in my town was scaled back a bit. For instance, instead of shooting off fireworks, the town decided it would be cheaper to burn one of our schools to the ground and blast an air-raid siren instead of patriotic music. It was pretty fucked, but I think our forefathers would appreciate our makeshift celebration; our hearts were in the right place. Even I got a little teary-eyed when the roof finally caved in during the finale. Unfortunately, we don't have any money to pay our fire department, so the smoldering wreckage is still burning and will stay that way until we ignore it. Eventually the fire will tire itself out and we'll all be able to go on with our lives - it's kinda like raising a child. A child that's the size of a city block and on fire, but a child nonetheless.

If the knuckleheads in Trenton (TMH Fun Fact: Trenton is the capital of New Jersey!) don't figure this shit out soon, we'll have to cut back even more. Soon they'll be closing ports and turning off traffic lights and taking down stop signs and erasing the lines from the streets and it's going to be fucking madness. Thank god for my fallout shelter. Well, it's a garage, and it's above ground, and the only source of sustenance we have in there is plant food and charcoal briquettes but it's all mine and you maniacs aren't going to determine my budget without a fight. That's how it always happens: first they close your casinos, next they're breaking into your house and burning all your books with flamethrowers. Next thing you know it's 1984 and there's like television screens everywhere and uh, Big Brother and um... look, I never actually read 1984, but I read Fahrenheit 451 and then burned my copy when I was through because I have a firm understanding of irony.

So please pray for my state and me in this desperate time of need. We can't gamble, we can't register our cars, we can't even curse at road workers unless we go to their houses and wake them up with a flurry of expletives. And the jury's still out on the whole state-funded prostitution thing... so I guess it's back to sitting around in my underpants and playing Oblivion. Is that OK with you New Jersey? Can you add the Cranky Webmaster Sitting Around in His Underpants Playing Role Playing Games clause into your budget without taxing me up the ass? For god's sake.



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