On Dunkin Donuts and Dumbass Bumper Stickers in Dickson County.


It’s Sunday morning and I’m feeling spiritual so I need to bitch. I just pulled into Dunkin Donuts and saw a bumper sticker — complete with Humphreys County plates, of course — that read:  “Work harder. Millions on welfare depend on it.”

My first thought was — yes, those babies that will get fed tonight off food stamps, through no fault of their own, who were born to a limited intelligence, socially stunted, single mother with absolutely no job skills really do appreciate the bottle of milk that you’re providing them tonight, asshole.  So does the disabled combat veteran that depends on the $68 a month he gets in food stamps. They always truly appreciate your imagined generosity there, buddy. Generosity that’s proportionate to your reflective wealth that’s obviously so expansive that you drive a well worn, beat up truck.

My next thought was, what an ignorant dick. Here’s why:

The first year after my Uncle Chunky died, if I remember correctly,  the accountant I hired told me to write a $14,000 check to the IRS. A few months later we got a letter back saying it wasn’t enough and we sent several more thousand — complete with penalties. Now, that was only after they took a portion of the money that Dickson County Probate Judge Andy Jackson couldn’t steal from me (or hold up in a five year court battle) before they even cut me a check. (Which is what they do with IRAs — which, of course, I had to use to buy a new car to replace the one the court took from me and pay college tuition, because, again, Andy Jackson is a crooked, thieving bastard.)

Now, unlike most of these assholes, I never got an earned income credit in my life. I remember the year I earned the most (which is to say when I actually had a salary, versus working for tips), I got back $400. Meanwhile people around me, particularly coworkers, were buying used cars with their $5-8k tax returns. True story.

My biggest refund: Four. Hundred. Bucks.

So, unless you are in the higher income brackets — which, usually, these people publicly bitching about their tax dollars are not —  or have grown children, you pretty much get back everything you pay in but Social Security.
People without children or people that make a lot of money don’t. Now, that said, when you start getting taxed the most (needless to say) is when you earn massive six figures, or when you get like my mom and step dad’s age and you earn a nice living — bam, Uncle Sam! But at the same time, when you get there, unless you retire with a good union job that provides benefits for you (like my mom, stepdad, and Pop) — which are dying out, by the way — you’re only paying into the Medicare that you’re likely to draw back from in your old age. I’m always confused when I see people talking about “my tax dollars pay for this… my tax dollars pay for that…”  about how the hell much tax it is exactly that they think they pay.  Your tax dollars may provide food stamps for one low-income family — that’s about it, hoss.

But you know who does pay for food stamps and welfare and don’t bitch about it?  People like the Clintons who pay $22 million in taxes. People like the Kennedys who, unlike wealthy, influential Republican families, never try to evade taxes even once. Let’s also give credit to the Bushes for that — although George W Bush’s ridiculous income tax cuts for his wealthy friends, are part of what led us to a historic recession.)  Or people like my parents, my two best friends’ parents, or your parents — that retire with good union jobs, or own successful businesses, who appreciate the life they were able to provide for their families and appreciate the United States of America.

Those people who really get taxed may not like it, but they do like living in a country where children won’t starve to death because of greed. It isn’t the food stamp recipients bleeding us dry, you ignorant idiot, it’s the corporate welfare and trillion dollars of continuous unnecessary military involvement for decades.

Nobody likes taxes. I don’t like taxes. And to tell the truth, I’ve never paid my property taxes on time in my life — that included two properties — even when I meant to. I’m horrible at it! And I don’t like that every time I run in to buy a diet coke at the market, they add $0.10 on to every dollar. What I do like, however, is that it goes to fund State universities so that when kids in the state get ready to go to college, they have a first-class institution of higher learning. I also like the fact that when some Vanderbilt t-shirt wearing smart mouth heckles me after the Tennessee/Vanderbilt game in the gas station parking lot, I can tell him that unless he’s an alumni or a legacy, there’s no “we” in  “his” Vanderbilt University, which is privately funded, and my sales tax support gives me the right to take any State University of my choosing and tell him that “we” said, “F**k you!”

That’s the point of taxes.

But ironically the ones that bitch about it are usually, always, the ones that pay the least and, eventually, benefit the most. This guy was driving a two decades old pickup truck and bitching about how much taxes he pays.

And unlike smart folks — need I say Union member and supporting Democrats —  who drive two decade old vehicles because they prefer cash in the bank to cash spent on a car note, the dipsticks with dumbass political stickers like this are always the kind to rush out and buy shiny new wheels every time they’re approved so that they feel even more self-importance when looking down on the less fortunate.

We have become such a greedy, selfish,all about me, fat ass lazy country. This is not the ideals — the  America — that our grandfathers envisioned or fought for when they stormed the beach at Normandy. And people like Donald Trump only exploit, and bring to the surface, the worst qualifies in America — which are exactly the ones that surface on a global stage that make us resented and unpopular.

We have so much, and yet, we hate and envy so many.  All the while, there are people in this world living an existence we can’t even imagine with hardships we can’t fathom.

Stop it, America.

And also, on these Hillary hating females I run into on the regular, I say this:  When I need help with which “Real House Wife” hails from what county — you’ll be my girl. Until then, why don’t you leave worrying about Clinton’s career to me.

Because it never fails, these “I can’t stand Hillary!” hating females are always some ‘Orange Is The New Black,’ reality show watching, politically ignorant, credit card maxing, Kardashian following (who, oddly enough, endorse HRC), label ho.

Grow up, girls. It’s not about you, it’s about the country.

We’re better than this, America.


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