April 15. Tax Day. Or as I like to call it, Various Federal, State & Local Governments Rummaging Through My Wallet in Order to Buy Clean Needles for Junkies and Other Unconstitutional Purchases Day.
But, like millions thousands of other wealthy-as-fuck Americans — less than 0.2% of the U.S. population, and therefore nothing to sneeze at — I won’t willingly apply the cooking lard to my own anus so the government can ride me like the AIDS-infested monkey it is. No. I will be attending my local Tea Party rally. And I will be waving signs. And I will be shaking my fist. And I will walking around with my testicles hanging out of my pants.
What? It’s called ball-walking. Don’t act like you’ve never heard of it. Frankly, I think it’s one of the purest forms of expression one can use to champion their god-given right to personal freedom. And if it was good enough for the Tailhook Patriots, it’s good enough for me. Plus, testicles are gifts from Mother Nature. If you don’t like them, you have declared yourself an enemy of humanity and I want nothing to do with you.
Okay, time to go show those liberals what “tea-bagging” is really all about. Hope to see you down there. Especially if you’re an unhinged young white female with loose morals and hate in your heart. (Emphasis on the “young,” Ann Coulter.) We’ll help each other through this, I promise.