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By Susan Bankston
Last month, the DEA refused to de-schedule marijuana, which I take as a personal insult to the last 50 damn years of my life. I am 68 years old, and enough is enough, y’all.
If we had legalized marijuana and taxed it back in 1966 when I first politely suggested it, by now we’d have collected enough money to Make America Ritzy Again. We could have swanky libraries and gold-leaf city-park slides. Hell, toll roads would be paying us to drive on them. You know that garbage collector who comes once or twice a week to pick up your garbage? He’d be coming daily, and he’d also offer to stop in and clean the tops of your ceiling fans.
But no, we can’t have all that, because a United States senator thinks marijuana is as hazardous as any other illegal drug. Honey, if you think marijuana is as dangerous as heroin, I may need to get your dealer’s number.
Y’all, I’m old. My bones ache, and I am cranky. I don’t need no damn aspirin—I need a toke. So, get off your semi-stoned butt and tell the DEA that we have better things for them to be doing—and plus, with all that extra tax money we’ll buy them some real adorable uniforms.
(Drags out soapbox, dusts it off…)
Legalize Marijuana and Tax It.
(Gets off soapbox, puts it away, but remembers where she put it—so don’t mess with her.)
Look—Cheech and Chong, Willie Nelson, Bill Maher, and I have all tried our damnedest, but we are getting old. You gotta do something, kids. You’re gonna feel real stoopid sitting at the old-folks home smoking a Mrs. Paul’s fish stick.
Okay, this is the political column, so we have to talk about the GOP elephant in the room.
Trumplethinskin. Holy cow, I wonder what kind of cheese goes with that whine. Now he’s whining that if he doesn’t win, the election is rigged.
Yep, he can’t admit that we might not want to elect a man who inherited millions, avoided the draft five times, gratuitously uses bankruptcy laws to rip off people while benefitting himself, and marries a new woman every 10 years when he tires of the old one.
If he gets defeated, it will be because of the numbers—you know, arithmetic. If he loses, he’ll blame the Babylonians.
Plus, let’s face it, he’d be winning this race if they had just listened to him and eliminated the talent competition.
Remember when Trump asked the foreign-policy expert three times during Trump’s one-hour national security briefing about why he couldn’t just use nuclear weapons to settle disputes? Having a “safe nuke” area on the earth is like having a safe-peeing area in a swimming pool. It don’t stay put. Honey, asking that question out loud would have earned him a sixth deferment from the Vietnam War—and gotten him dismissed from jury duty.
I am worried about this election, because Trump is building a wall on the Mexican border that will keep me in, and I’m far too rude to live in Canada. (Don’t look at me like that. You are, too.)
At the Republican National Convention, Trump has a list of things that he—“and only he”—could fix.
I also have a list, because he forgot some things.
Top Nine Things that Donald Trump, and Only Donald Trump, Can Do (Because #10 Is Never Funny Enough)
9. Usher in the seventh sign of the apocalypse.
8. Put his vice president, Mike Pence, in charge of curing scabies…and homosexuals.
7. Five words: Secretary of Defense Gary Busey
6. Release his stockpile of orange self-tanner to save us all from our long national nightmare of natural flesh-toned faces.
5. Save America from overpopulation by appearing nude at his inaugural address.
4. Ignore climate change, because you can’t blame that on brown people.
3. Feed and clothe all homeless supermodels. Well, until they turn 40.
2. “Sarcastically” start a nuclear Armageddon.
1. Give Vladimir Putin the keys to the back door.
The next time someone asks you if you’d trust Donald Trump with the nuclear codes, just say, “Hell, child, I wouldn’t trust him with my Netflix password.”
Susan Bankston lives in Richmond, Texas, where she writes about her hairdresser at The World’s Most Dangerous Beauty Salon, Inc., at juanitajean.com.