I am getting tired of all these shortages. For chrissakes, we are supposed to be the least third-world of the modern countries, and yet it's like socialism just swooped right in and stole all of our toilet paper. And cars. And gifts. And food. And employees.
The car dealers have zero inventory, yet they keep lists of incoming vehicles (all ten or less of them) and post the list in the dealer windows with the words "SOLD" and the overprices that people are paying for vehicles they have not even seen.
My sister texted me a week or so ago because she heard rumor that people could not locate any cans of jellied cranberry sauce. In the state where she lives, people were going nuts trying to locate the stuff, according to the media. I went down the street to a chain grocery, the same chain she buys from, and found hundreds of cans. I felt like buying it all so I could understand what these damn toilet paper hoarders feel like when they score a stash. Instead, I bought four cans.
Look, people. Get back to work. Get. Back. To. Work.
Get to the docks and unload the ships. Get to the warehouses and move the merchandise. Get to the stores and stock the shelves. Fuuuuuuuuudge the vaccine. It doesn't work, anyway. People are still getting sick. Brandon himself has said Covid isn't going away, and we all know that when Brandon speaks, as when The Big Orange Blob spoke, it's the freaking voice of God. (I despise all politicians, by the way.)
Thank goodness I got the jellied cranberry sauce, but I still need TP for my bunghole and a vehicle to get to my job. My job. That's right, because I have yet to miss a goddamned day of work for this virus, so get your own sad-asses back out there.
Now, watch me die of Covid before the next blog. I hate karma, but at least it can be served up with a good-sized portion of jellied cranberry sauce.
