Ma is worried. She had to put up her prices because of the imposition of a new tax dreamed up by an evil secret alliance of the "We'll Do Anything the Big Corporations Want" political parties in my province and country. Now she has a few less customers. The ones with lots of dope money in their pocket still come around like usual but everybody else is getting the life squeezed out of them like a pack of ketchup. Some people think the new tax is all about coercing revenue out of the flourishing underground economy. Better to get 12% out of the criminals' pockets than nothing. Trouble is that 12% is money a lot of people, who do not make their money growing dope, do not have.
If running a province or country is all about robbing and bullying the people into the ground, we could not be better served by Premier Fuckhead in Victoria and Prime Minister Fuckhead in Ottawa.
"Don't blame me for bill," Ma said as she put the bill, signed like always with a slit-eyed happy face, for my breakfast in front of me. "Liberal, Conservative both same. They never be happy until they can sacrifice virgins and fuck little boy every day again like old day leader."
"You know Ma," I told her as I fished a fistful of coins from my work pants, "You sure do talk a lot like a Communist for somebody who escaped Communist China to start over in Canada with nothing."
Ma gave the look everybody gives me when I say something I ought not have. Her eyes narrowed and focused on me like I was a wolf spider she was about grind into the ground beneath her sensible shoes. "All same - Liberal, Conservative, Communist. All just gangbangers wearing different colours. You know that Beer."
My breakfast cost me 50 cents more than it used to. I go out for breakfast at least 200 times per year. I could buy four cases of beer with that money. That is what governments do - steal your very happiness like the first rate snatchers of little old lady's purses they are.
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