Tonight, sitting here summing up today’s abysmal news, economoney’s dive off the high board, and the fact the whole elite world hates me along with the country’s innocent collective collateral, damaged from the head down, I was considering what I’d stuff in my thug-out bag before they come for me. I’m sure they’ll come for me [and 80% of sheeple] *cough* because we haven’t done anything wrong. I’m assuming they will say to me, once they’ve kicked the door down a la Elian G, you only get to take one book and five CDs, and your one obligatory cyanide caplet unless you want us to do your dirty work for you, you lazy SOB! *kick*
Hmm.. one book, 5 CDs. OK. I’ve decided. I’m going to take The Good Book and Van Morrison set. Like h&ll you are! You nucking futz? You won’t live a day if you bring that nucking goody-2-shoes rag! Either I’ll kill you, or they will! Okaaay. I’ll take Gibran and Morrison. Oh, damn! [under breath: I wonder what goes best with barb wire?] Let’s see, it’s got to be 4 Van and 1 Cat Power. No. Start over. Gibran, 3 Vans, 1 Cat, 1 Dylan. Shite! What’s wrong with me? Never, never, never break 5-of-a-kind! This has gone on now, this back and forth, trying to decide what music goes best with Gibran, for nearly an hour. Until it finally dawned on me that death goes best sans The Good Book.
What’s in your wallet thug-out bag?