Where’s My Bailout?

Image by Storm Crypt via Flickr

Everyone probably knows how pissed off the bailout of AIG and the 700 billion for Wall Street has made me. Now, the auto makers are begging for a taxpayer handout. I’m a woman on the edge.

I want my bailout.

As a survivor of an abusive marriage that never took public relief, I want my bailout. As a taxpayer since I started working at the age of twelve; as a single mother with three kids working two jobs and STILL below the poverty level; as a taxpayer who was too busy surviving to even think about school; as a woman fifteen years from social security with an over drafted bank account, where Social Security will most likely not be available to me because of the rape and pillaging of our economic system.

I want my bailout; as a person who’s never experienced a trip to a spa, a massage, or a fine dining experience above the level of Ponderosa. I want my bailout, or at the very least I want the option of saying no to these phucktards who can’t do their jobs and are so afraid they’re going to lose their million-dollar homes, fancy cars, and golden parachutes. I want the option of saying no to these book-smart, brain-stupid CEOs; I want them to know what it’s like to feed their children Hamburger Helper four nights a week and be happy they have that, because there’s been days when all they have to feed their kids are fried green tomatoes. I want them to know what it’s like to wonder how they’re going to fill the fuel oil tank; to worry about the electric being shut off; to be constantly harassed for money they don’t have, can’t earn, and will never get.

I want these phucktards to wrestle with hamsters the size of their egos and ignorance of what life is really like for the majority of the taxpayers they want to rape YET AGAIN in order to keep their shiny new toys. I want them to stay awake night after night because they are trying to find ways to rob Peter to pay Paul just to keep the roof of a trailer or a run-down 100 year-old house over the heads of them and their families.

The typical auto worker makes $70 an hour, has a 401K and medical benefits. Who are they bailing out? Where is my bailout? I’ve worked for 38 years, at jobs these CEO’s wouldn’t be caught dead working. I’ve cleaned toilets, flipped burgers, and cleaned up vomit, blood and piss and have paid my taxes the whole way.

These CEO’s can live the rest of their lives, very comfortably, on the interest of what they have already amassed in their bank accounts. They don’t *need* million dollar homes, a fleet of gas-guzzling cars. They don’t *need* an art collection, fancy vacations six times a year, spa treatments or “conferences” in exotic locations with catered menus. Jesus Christ, how much is enough? How did these people get so screwed up to think that THINGS are what make you happy, that the one with the best toys WINS? What are you winning?? When will they learn that all these material things will NEVER fill the emptiness in their lives, that the void they keep trying to stuff with snooty recreations will always be there! No matter how they try to fill it with designer clothes, fancy cars or sparkly jewelry?

No. No, NO, and HELL NO. No more bitching bailouts. FAIL! That’s what the rest of us do, but you know what makes us better than that? WE KEEP GETTING UP. And we keep paying our taxes, which keeps this economy going. The airlines didn’t get a bailout in the 80’s, the tourism industry didn’t get a bailout after 9-11, so what’s with this? It’s unconstitutional to take taxpayer money and bailout a privately held business. Fall! Fail! Then pick yourself up and start over. Take your “golden parachute” and stick it up your ass, and while you’re at it, welcome to the Game of Life. The same game the rest of us have been playing all along.

Gah.

Tags: AIG, bailout, Economic, Golden parachute, Wall Street