remember when you got in trouble for drinking parrot bay on the beach when you were fifteen and the cop with the four-wheeler called your parents and they picked you up at some wendy's on the interstate and took away your cell phone for, like, three weeks? (remember when the no-phone punishment was all the more miserable because you only had one family computer that was situated strategically in the kitchen/ family room/ master bedroom so your mom could ask you constantly who you were talking to and "HOW? ARE THEY JUST THERE ON THE OTHER SIDE? WHY IS IT SO FAST? WHY CAN'T I LOOK? WHY WOULD YOU DO ANYTHING ON THIS COMPUTER THAT YOUR MOTHER COULDN'T READ? ARE YOU PAYING THE BILL?") remember when, consumed by grief, you told yourself, "someday, i will laugh and laugh and laugh about this," not even knowing that you would one day go on to get back at your parents by squandering your monthly allowance in college on chicken mcnuggets and gin?

WELL THE DAYS TO LAUGH HAVE COME.

much like the days have come to laugh at hitler. and stalin. and mao. and idi amin. and maybe even nixon.

why is it that every time i venture out of the house i am forced to hear passerby after passerby predicating their dictator-related observations with, "of course, there is nothing funny about mussolini..."

BULLSHIT.

there wasn't anything funny about watching a cop in shorts pour out two six-packs of smirnoff ice while you sobbed hysterically in a denim bathing suit, was there? SHIT DUDE! DICTATORS!

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