When the uncomplicated minds of our august (how timely) state legislators returned to work this morning after a month-long holiday, the flimsiest liberals in California gave us 855 new reasons for demanding a part-time Legislature.
Two months maximum.
Most other states do fine with a part-time body of boobs.
Test them if you think I exaggerate. Pick one legislator. For a million dollars, ask him to define the difference between diffidence and dissonance. Tell him you will tax California’s illegal aliens and other Democrat nobles until they scream, in English, to raise the million bucks.
Eight hundred and fifty-five bills, dear reader, are pending in both chambers.
Do you feel a need to be stomped to the floor by 855 more bills by a gaggle of liberal geese?
Normal people call it oppression.
Democrats call it legal scamming out of view.
Only an insecure liberal could enjoy the social and cultural chaos in Sacramento that this chorus of clowns creates while flaunting a per diem greater than the weekly incomes of the illegals, felons and others Democrats they profess to care deeply about.
State Sen. Curren Price (D-Culver City) and Assemblymember Holly Mitchell (D-Culver City) are lovely, well-meaning people. You would enjoy shmoozing with both at a cocktail party.
That is where all of our legislators should be fulltime, roaming, idly, from one lightweight cocktail party to the next frothy event. Maybe they do already.
You would be amazed at how much more smoothly California would flow if all of the Sacramento liars – since nearly all of them are liberals – were banned to an Indian reservation 120 miles from the nearest normal person.
Gov. Flat Tire could return to fulltime drinking.
Sen. Price could make a serious contribution to society by returning to the universe of commerce.
Ms. Mitchell could return her focus to more localized childcare, essaying a real difference in the daily lives of struggling families she looks in the eye every day instead of making laws comprised of stale oatmeal 500 miles away.
Your taxes would plummet.
Your stress would drop to your ankles, and schools would operate effectively while the useless state Supt. of Instruction returns to painting screws and nails in the barrios.