Columns » Bob Lancaster

Sick, also tired

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I don't know about you but I'm sick and tired of all the squabbling over whether it was the Knights of Columbus or the Minnesota Vikings who discovered America.

I'm sick and tired of people who it's always about them.

I'm sick and tired of smug. A whole lot of the discourse now is trying to outsmug one another.

Smug often finds outward expression in a smirk, and I'm sick and tired of that.

I'm sick and tired of those who try to find stature by standing on the shoulders of dwarves.

I'm sick and tired of presidential candidates who know so little about history that they aren't even doomed to repeat it.

I'm sick and tired of not being asked to join any organization that wouldn't have me as a member anyway.

I'm sick and tired of trying to remember whether I walked to school or carried my lunch.

I'm sick and tired of hero status being extended to anybody who ever put on a uniform or pinned on a Charles Bussey badge.

I'm sick and tired of the allegation that freedom is not free.

It's not free to us entitlement drudges, but as far as the Koch McDucks who have moved beyond the indignity of obligatory taxation, it doesn't cost them a dime.

I'm sick and tired of being told that if I'll just be patient enough one of these Christmases Santy will find room in the sleigh for the Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action 200-Shot Range Model Air Rifle that I first ordered the Christmas Lumpy got the u-glu-it scale model of the Enola Gay.

I'm sick and tired of plutocrats and congressmen sniffing one another's uranuses.

I'm sick and tired of "White Christmas" knowing the inevitable performer got off on chronic child abuse.

I'm sick and tired of every Christmas some heathen yegg making off with Manger Boy out of some provincial creche, outraging the yeomanry and leaving the Kings of Orientar to shake their heads. It's bad, yes, but it's just a stupid doll. Or is it? Sick and tired of such Capra snatches too.

I've been sick and tired of country music since the ballad with this old boy crooning to his gal how he'd like to take a walk through the wildflowers with her and then pick the ticks off'n her after they got back home. The song'd be only marginally better if he went on then and ate the ticks.

I'm sick and tired of hermaphrodite deer.

I'm sick and tired of Christmas ham. Do we do that just to hooraw Jews, or what?

I'm sick and tired of Muslims being such soreheads. Have you ever heard one of them tell a joke? Draw a cartoon of the Prophet and they'll cut your head off.  Tell them laughter is the best medicine and they'll cut somebody else's head off that you probably don't even know. Henny Youngman probably runs their Hell.

I'm sick and tired of being stuck with the gizzard every visit to the bird colonel or Popeye the Sailor Man.

I'm sick and tired of them that think making lame lists like this is easier, special-ed vo-tech type construction work compared to their fartsy fancy-boy ruminations on their tater-hole lint.

I'm sick and tired of everybody dissing the repo guys. Just because of the way they look and the work that they do and one of them with what looks like a two-inch roofing nail sticking sharp end forward through her lower lip.

I'm sick and tired of all these places like St. Petersburg, Russia, changing their name back and forth every time some new dictator comes along and kills another 40 million people.

I'm sick and tired of them what can ever get enough.

I'm sick and tired of weasels, sick and tired of goobers, and now they've crossbred into weabers and goosels that God help us if a lot more regular sane people don't get a lot sicker and tireder of it in a hurry.

I'm sick and tired of being red-bellied as a wussy because I don't nuke deers and then eat their sausage raw.

I'm sick and tired of people who either beat the tar out of their offspring for misbehaving in public or just throw their hands up and let the little dickenses run wild. A custody change is in order either way – to parental units who remember what manners are, and know how, without cruelty or knuckling under at crunch time, to see that they are minded. Must be an awful problem for retailers.

I'm sick and tired of Wolf Blitzer's beard. It's unchanged from the time when he subbed for one of the Smith Brothers in their cough-drop ad, so who knows what evil lurks under there. My guess is, it's not George Clooney.

I'm sick and tired of all these illegal-immigrant polar bears taking over the best bar pits.

Sick and tired of trying to beat mysterious little gnome who sets the Vegas ball-game betting lines. Over and under. Taking points and giving them. You can edge him out on occasion, even have a short prosperity run, but long-term big-time capella woes if you lag back into the Bill Bennett/Lu Hardin debit range.

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