We always complain about politicians not being honest or someone at work. A neighbor or a priest, but I’ve learned the only one that matters is a fat kid born on the northside of Chicago during the Johnson Administration.
In Chicago we have a fine line when it comes to the truth. Either we lie to you or we take the liberty of bullshiting you.
Bullshiting is like a fib or a white lie. Something that at the present time…you don’t need to know what’s going on.
When you lie you better have a good memory of what you said. Your tongue doesn’t have a memory, but your brain sure as hell does.
Which means you can’t lie to yourself…. You can’t even bullshit yourself.
The little kid on the television screen up at Santa’s workshop. He’s the little boy in “Polar Express” repeating “it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me!”
Every time I watch that movie with the Shepkids I tell them, “that kid fucked himself! Santa won’t let him off!”
“Kids….. three things that you can’t lie to, it’s impossible! God, yourself and Santa Claus!”
So that piece of crap Mayor or Governor. The jagoff broker on the other side of the pit. That neighbor that still has your weedwhacker and Father O’Blithering… three people know they are all liars and eventually… THE TRUTH WILL PREVAIL……
First weekend of Autumn…. May your football and rugby team leave victorious. May your crockpot fill your home with warmth. May your blankey reach from your toes to your nose and may your lips say “I Love You” to many of those you see.
…and do your homework when voting for judges!
