The stranger pulled the blanket tighter around him. I poured him a whisky; he nodded his thanks, and asked who was in charge.
"Officially? No one," I told him. "In here? You stutter the flow of this place and I'll have to make an example of you."
He laughed. "Put my head on a pike outside?"
I didn't laugh. "I'll put your head on the next boat, along with the rest of you."
"The next boat?" The stranger sipped his drink, considering. "Why is that bad?"
"Only two kinds of people get on the boat. The ones that know they're being punished, and the ones that don't."
The board of Citizens, the "insurance company of last resort" for the millions of Floridians who were approved for mortgages they shouldn't have gotten in a million years (and for tens of thousands of wealthy folks who would do literally anything, including murdering orphans, to save four dollars), voted unanimously to raise its rates for South Florida homeowners. Sure, it's infuriating any time an insurance company goes "shit, we had to pay out so much that our profits suffered for once, so we're gonna pass expense that along to you," but folks who don't have waterfront property stand to actually see a decrease in their rates as the cost goes up for those that do, so … I'm confused. Was I about to give props to an insurance company? Life is a Rubik's Cube, and the one side we complete most often just happens to be the color of "ughwhatthefuckletsgobacktobed."
For the first time in more than two decades, the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission greenlit a black bear hunting season for late October — despite the fact that a vast majority of the citizens who took the time to A) attend the meeting and B) respond to the various online opinion polls and calls for reaction were against such a move. Oh, and did we mention that most of the commissioners are real estate developers, avid hunters or connected to businesses whose interests are at cross purposes with environmentalism? Public service at work, folks. Expect the Bears For Bears signal to hit the clouds shortly.
According to Honeywell Fans (which I'm pretty sure is a subsidiary of the Honeywell that makes shit that turns people to ash), Tampa is America's sweatiest city. Since New Orleans didn't show up in the Top Ten at all, I'm calling BULLSHIT BULLSHIT BULLSHIT. Have you ever been to NOLA? Walking down the street is like fighting your way through a spider web made of sodden wrestlers' jocks and the sweat-rot of misplaced bro confidence — and still so much fun you don't even care.
And finally, 53-year-old Henry Simpson, Jr. of Hernando County has officially been arrested 52 times since 1995. Mazel Tov! Henry Simpson, Jr. is a perfect example of someone who is unable to learn how to play well with others, and should be dumped in Mississippi from a van at high speed, Wet Hot American Summer style.
Image by jpkolo via Wikimedia Commons.
This article appears in Jun 18-24, 2015.