Remember September 11?

Oh yeah, I remember.

Hey, remember metal detectors?

Yeah. Yeah! I remember those – at airports. An’ government buildings.

And high schools!

Yeah – now, we got temperature check thermometers.

And tracking lists. To ride an elevator to an empty office or have lunch inside a restaurant.

Remember restaurants? And movie theaters? They had air conditioning. Now we have to do it outside – while it’s hot. And watch out for Antifa terrorists.

They ain’t terrorists – terrorists are terrorists.

Like Russians.

Ooh diplomats. Disney and, and, and, the Taliban – hey, remember ISIS?

No – wait. The. Walking. Dead….

Yeah, I remember. They’re not as scary as crack dealers, remember them? Or mobsters – they’re the worst.

Yeah, the ones by the airport, especially. They was big, loud, and greasy.

But they wore suits, and showered. Not like now, with the hairy arm-pits and stinkin’ like shit on fire and I can’t tell if they be chicks or dicks!

Remember when you could tell the difference?

Yeah, remember when people cared?

Remember when war was war but you knew what you were fighting for?

….yeah, I remember that.

As of September 30th, New Yorkers can dine in.

All you have to do is submit the color of your bowel movements for the next twelve-hundred hours.

The mayor and the governor (a.k.a. Dumb and Dumber) won’t ask whether dinner was followed by sexy-time, after all, it could never be as deviant as their preferences. Nipple piercing aside.

It’s amazing how the Tweedles managed to totally destroy New York. Businesses are closing. Good people are moving out. Children are disintegrating mentally and spiritually. Criminals are in control of the quality of life and it’s beginning to really, really suck.

Still, all the dictator and the bozo care about is the virus. Maybe because more people have died from it than people who actually like these assholes.

The sad thing is, I have friends who think Big Bird and Pepperoni Nipples are doing a good job. Even think one of them should run for office! Maybe if my friends lived sandwiched between two homeless shelters like me, they’d change their tune. But as it is, the city that never sleeps is overdosing on Benzos and turning into a wasteland that even Snake Plissken would reconsider entering – no, to see the light, it’ll take more than that.

A collapsed Broadway? Stupid children? Vampiric Quarantiners? Coin Vending Machines?!

The virus is real, the danger is not. Take off your masks, get back to work, and read a good book for a change.