The Massachusetts Main Street Fairness Coalition for Illiterate Slobs

Come November, if you live in Massachusetts, you can thank, in part, Mayor Kim Driscoll (above), of Salem, MA, and her sleazy cronies at Massachusetts Main Street Fairness Coalition for the sales tax you will have to pay on goods you buy on Amazon.com.

From the Massachusetts Main Street Fairness Coalition’s website:

“Common sense would dictate that if a Massachusetts resident buys a product online, they would pay the same sales tax as anyone that had gone to the store in person.”

Common sense dictates that illiterate assholes tend to have their heads up their asses. In their sentence above, “resident” is a singular noun. “[T]hey” is a plural pronoun. Nominals must agree in English. This is an agreement error. In addition, the modal verb “would” is inappropriate here. What they mean is “Common sense dictates.” Also, the pronoun “that” is incorrect. It should be “who.” Beyond the grammatical problems, the sentence is a convoluted piece of shit. These illiterate slobs were successful at pressuring Governor Deval Patrick, whom I voted for, to cave to their special interests.

If I drive to Florida from Massachusetts and buy a hat, should the merchant in Florida whom I bought the hat from be required to collect Massachusetts’ sales tax on this hat? Of course not. Why should it be any different if I bought the hat from this merchant in Florida online? This argument that it is unfair is an argument made by slimy, illiterate, capitalist swine merchants and their political whores.

The sales tax is a regressive tax. Massachusetts should eliminate this tax altogether and adopt a graduated income tax. This would be a fair tax, because it would mean that people who earn more than average, like Mayor Kim Driscoll, pay more in taxes. Mayor Kim Driscoll needs to pay her fair share in taxes, instead of displacing the tax burden onto consumers. It is not fair that people who have barely any disposable income pay a disproportionate amount of their income on taxes.

Copy of original article from Massachusetts Main Street Fairness Coalition’s website.

Original URL: http://www.massmainstreet.com/About-The-Issue

This material was not copyrighted.

They have no idea

Middle-aged women on OkayCupid write to me. Many of them are good looking, and I could seriously screw them. I don't think that they understand just how low on the food chain I am. I try to make this clear in my profile, though I don't overtly say this. These women probably have no clue that I spend my days thinking about how to kill myself. I'm not going to do this now. But I need an exit strategy. I will not beg. That's not going to happen. Killing oneself can be confounding. I often read about people, often women, successfully killing themselves through hanging. I don't know how people can do this. These people have gonads that I don't have. The horror of dangling by the neck and suffocating … this is just too horrible and depressing for me … I can't do this. Also, it so demeaning to be found, hanged. It would be a while before anyone finds my body. I would stink. My corpse would be hideous. There would probably be flies and maggots eating away at my rotting corpse. It would be disgusting. Asshole police would probably laugh at me. I don't want the slimy, cocksucker police laughing at me. I've faced humiliation my whole life; I don't want to be scraped out of my apartment like rotten, human garbage. Good Christ, there's got to be a better way.

My big bank robbery front row seat update

They caught two of the bank robbers who were responsible for the hold-up that I witnessed yesterday. Maybe the guy in front of me was not an accomplice. Maybe he was also a witness. These have to be the stupidest criminals on earth. I wish I could have told them that there is much more money robbing people at CELTA centers, and you will never go to prison.

“All of it, all of it.”

I was struck by how beautiful yet pale the teller was in the bank inside the supermarket today. She looked like how people used to look in paintings done long ago: Pale as shit. Something else was unusual today. There was a line. There was never a line. The guy in front of me kept looking back at me. What the fuck is this asshole looking at, I said to myself. I didn’t realize at the time that he was almost surely an accomplice in a bank holdup that was in progress.

Why was the guy in the front of the guy who was giving me a weird look holding up a note to the teller? Perhaps it was his account number. I kept trying to read the teller’s face. I did not read alarm or shock. She couldn’t be being robbed, because then she would be showing more affect. The guy behind me turned around again, and I thought, perhaps he was not looking at me suspiciously, perhaps he was looking at everyone suspiciously.

The teller handed the man holding the note to her some cash.

“All of it,” he said. “All of it.” He did not sound nervous or angry, just determined.

Then the teller handed the man a big wad of cash. I did not see her count the cash. Still, no affect from the teller. Finally, I said to myself, fuck trying to read the teller by her expression. It may be business as usual to the teller, but I am sure that I am standing right behind two guys holding up a bank, and this situation is a little dangerous. It was time for me to bug the fuck out.

I started walking. As I approached the exit I saw a bagger. She had a strange look on her face. She wasn’t yet sure what was going on, but she at least suspected that there might be a bank robbery in progress. I thought about waving to the teller, to signify to her that this was definitely a hold-up. What am I crazy, I said to myself. Are you trying to get yourself or her killed? Get your ass moving out that door and get the fuck out!

In the car I said to myself, shouldn’t I call the police? It was too difficult. I had a Florida cell phone. 911 would give me the Florida State Police, not Massachusetts. There are going to be armed men with a lot of money running out of this supermarket very soon. There may be armed men from inside of the supermarket chasing after them as well. Get your ass out of this parking lot. Now!

I drove towards my physical therapy appointment. Two minutes later I saw police cars with sirens blaring, driving towards the supermarket. They were way too late. The bank robbers had probably left the bank a long time ago. I laughed. I don’t approve of threatening bank tellers with violence, but I was sort of happy for the bank robbers. There are far worse crimes. IH Budapest had robbed me of thousands of dollars, as well as my livelihood, and took three months of my life away from me to give me verbal abuse, as well as shitty instruction that lacked documentation. They did not need a gun, for they had that great pillar of Western Civilization, Cambridge University to validate their crimes. The system had robbed me my whole life. Why had I felt so compelled to inform on these bank robbers? What the fuck was wrong with me?

I don’t have much to say anymore…

Sometimes I think about Hungary and I cry. I mourn for Hungary and feel sorry for myself. All I have now is crushed dreams and memories of this fairy-tale land. The photo below is of a church in Sopron. If you look closely you can see that the door to the church was open. I wanted to walk in, but I was running out of light and afraid that it I would not be able to find my way back. I did however look at the cemetery in back of the church. It was so beautiful that it moved me to tears.

 

A different church nearby.

Not only the churches, but the houses in this medieval neighborhood had these little embedded statues in them, and I loved the hell out them.

The Sopron Tower. This is the logo of Sopron beer.

 

Hotel Palitunus, where I stayed. Only the hotels at Foxwoods rival this hotel in cleanliness. It was only about $50 USD in September. Excellent breakfast, with lots of sausage and other meats. Friendly staff. It doesn’t get much better than Hotel Palitunus. This street used to be called “Jew Street.” It was part of the Jewish ghetto during the middle ages.

As you can see from the map, I was not far from Vienna. It doesn’t bother me that much that I never got a chance to see Vienna. Fuck Vienna. I saw Sopron!