We wait with crossed fingers and hope in our hearts. Our faces turned toward the sun, wishing that the answer, like a majestic California condor, will fly by and relieve us of our worry. When, oh dear saintly governor, will there be a budget.
Not today.
As Californians wait to hear if they'll lose healthcare, have a job or even be able to afford gas, the state's legislators have once again postponed a meeting because Speaking of the Assembly Karen Bass had other plans.
How long until we can get rid of all these fuckers? They should be locked in a room, not flying off to meetings. Maybe they should be made to feel the stress we all feel. Citizens can pay a nominal fee (which will go into the state's coffers) to go in there and hold a gun to the head of their chosen politico.
"Start negotiations, bitches!" Gun pressed harder against the temple. Ahh, the sweet smell of fear. It's the same smell all those Welfare-to-Work receipents have been giving off these past few months.
Now there apparently won't be any news until Monday morning around 11 a.m.. Splendid. Another day. Another billion dollars.
These people can't be trusted with choices, let alone the world's eighth largest economy. Take it away from them. Send them off to where they will be semi-functional (like Eureka's Taco Bell). Do it, and do it soon. At this point, I'm pretty sure the Taliban could do a better job.
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