ZOMBIES WITH CREDIT CARDS

America and the world's most important holiday is coming up: Black Friday. This is when we celebrate the economic inequality that marks our society. Stores will be open hours earlier and stay open much later than usual, and hordes of shoppers will beat each other to a bloody pulp over the last ninety inch teevee screen for sale at a screw-you price.

The president could shoot a man in broad daylight, and no one would care.

It's probably the perfect day for a quiet lunch.


If I really wanted to trigger folks, I'd take a pipe and tobacco down to the shopping district and spark up. But I'm too lazy, and intolerant of people, especially crowds, to do so.


I do not have kids, I do not need an X-box.


I do not worship fat men in red bathrobes.


I think that most of you people are nuts.




A few years ago I worked at a toy company, so I am a bit jaundiced about the holiday shopping season. Any retailer who counts on Christmas to get back on an even keel financially is, as far as I'm concerned, barking up the wrong tree. And your relatives do not like you well enough to buy you what you really want: a flawless pearl necklace, for instance. Selfish bastards.
Just think how delightful you would look wearing only that.
And perhaps warm flannel pajamas.
Because it's cold.


Black Friday: a perfect opportunity to spend all day in bed, with the blinds down, and warm beverages. Just padding to the kitchen occasionally to fix yourself some more buttered toast, in your comfy pajamas and pearls.
With perhaps the cat for company.
Or not.


I'm going to have lunch.
Probably porkchops.
And milk tea.

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