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 Me and my friend Fonebone walked from our rundown farm to the nearby polka festival tent the other day to get a beer and possibly a sausage. Big fan of sausage, that Fonebone. When we got there, the guy at the door asked us for our identification cards. Incredulous, I looked at him and said, "What identification cards? I'm an important man and my picture is in the papers. Plus, here's my voter registration card, and they had to verify my identification for that." The man looked at me, and said, "Whatever, but for your friend, the cost to get in the door is $25 a day, $100 a week, or $360 a month."
Fonebone said, "I don't have that kind of cash, man, because I'm a retiree who pays more in taxes, which had to be raised because the state wanted to cut taxes to businesses." The man at the door said, "I hear you, Fonebone, because I own a hippo ranch. My business taxes were cut, which was my good luck, because the hike in everyone's taxes has artificially depressed the amount of money people can pay me for hippo-related goods. Now, all my hippos are very sad, but in the long run it didn't hurt me all that much because what I lost in business transactions I've made up for in tax cuts." Fonebone looked at me, and before he could say a word, I cut him off, "Don't look at me, deadbeat. You have to make your own way in this world. If I gave you $25 a day, $100 a week, or $360 a month to get into this beer tent, then there'd be no end to people asking me for $25 a day, $100 a week, or $360 a month to get in here, and I ain't made of money. You and the hippos are both screwed." If you'd like to help Fonebone get into the tent and have a beer to nurse his sorrow, and to also help him conduct a little business on the hippo ranch, please contact me at ebaerren@michiganliberal.com. Also, there was an inquiry yesterday that would have gotten Fonebone into the tent all the way through Election Day. Oddball periods of time and a blend of cash and hard goods advanced as sponsorship packages will be entertained. |
