Recently, in some grand periodical the name of which escapes me, a left-wing paragraphist demanded that vaccinations for the Chinese Flu be — mandatory. Not womandatory, mind you. But MANdatory.
Now. Some right-wing wags might snicker and suggest the author of said mouse appendage think piece is compensating for that dream 6th-Grade Hall Monitor job that got away.
Festive silk bandolero in your school colors. Matching military beret, cockily tilted. Black stenciled-on-with-a-Sharpie fake little paintbrush moustache. Tan hiking shorts. Knee socks. Whistle. Suspenders. Leather. Notepad and crayon on which to take names and suggest fitting punishments. For some of the elementary schools in tougher neighborhoods, like Bridgeport, twin tiny attack monkeys in matching uniforms on a leash. Civilization itself depends upon the vigilance and courage of our nation’s hall and vaccination monitors. So let’s not be quick to guffaw, throw dried dog poop and criticize.
For one thing, the letter writer kindly allowed that people could refuse COVID-19 shots on the grounds of religious objections. Next time someone tries to serve me cauliflower, I’m going to use that one.
I can just see the COVID Police screeching up to a Canyon Country residence and 18 jack-booted stormtroopers clownfully bounce out of the armored personnel carrier. Quick-stepping in unison, they rush to our Letter Writer, who is now Field Marshal of the SCV’s crack F.T.U.V.F.A.C.o.SC.H.R.R. — Federal Teachers’ Union Vaccination Force And City of SClarita Human Resource Roundtable.
“He’s in there!” yells the health mitigation letter writer in a cracking voice, who, for some reason, is now wearing a monocle.
Automatic weapons drawn, the needle police fortuitously bump into the non-vax suspect as he’s taking out his trash. They yell “HALT!” and before they can demand his inoculation papers, he nonchalantly announces: “I’m Presbyterian…”
Flummoxed, the former guardian of empty hallways slaps his thigh with his riding crop and yells: “DRAT! CURSED PROTESTANT LOOPHOLES!”
En masse, the squad of flu cops do an about-face, trot back to their new Mayor Carmen Miranda troop carrier and speed off to question Cameron Smyth, little knowing he’s Rastafarian.
I’m telling you. We’re in deep crisis. People are getting off with not being investigated. Personally, I’d like to see City Hall bring back their vaunted Female Body Inspector squad (formed by former City Manager Ken Pulskamp). Heavens. I wouldn’t mind the job. Pays well. Benefits. Typical two-day city staff work-month. For me, it’s not so much the humdrummia of examining the dainty boundaries of the female form. I just think I’d look nice and commanding in a mid-thigh-length white lab coat with the giant flesh-colored SCV Female Body Inspector logo with the pole dancer on the back.
Flossing? I have neighbors whom I suspect of not flossing. Bastards. I don’t mean this in the swear-word sense. It’s just that I suspect many SCV millennials have parents who weren’t exactly married at the time of their conception. These people should be taxed, made to stand in line, questioned and register somewhere inconvenient weekly. Tooth decay and shady marriage licensing are one, no, make that two, of the most dangerous communicable diseases known to man. Democrats estimate that together this will wipe out all of mankind in nine years. A smidge after 10 in the morning. Shots are vital.
I think some of you may be beginning to sense that I like white lab coats. And clipboards. And probing questions with the damning word, “mandatory,” delivered in a thick, fake German accent.
Some may scoff. But we are at the crossroads of a national crisis. Taxes must be imposed. Faxes issued. Why? Because faxes rhymes with taxes. Income redistributed to those without lab coats. As a valley, we need to begin a dialogue and start asking ourselves, and each other, serious questions. Like:
“What is it that you have in your mouth!!?!!??”
Or, our letter writer’s personal favorite: “What is it that you have in your mouth!!???!? LOOK AT ME!!!”
I’m not being rhetorical. LOOK at the person next to you. Their mouth is closed, isn’t it? I mean, sure. They can chuckle and awkwardly mumble that most people don’t breathe through their mouth, unless they have a cold, or are Hunter Biden. Think about it. The Closed Mouth is a perfect place to hide a small, plum-sized explosive device.
Hm. Why do they call it COVID-19? Does that mean we need 16 more shots?
Anyway. People need their mouths inspected.
By duly appointed and licensed government representatives.
Like Scott Wilk.
And, if suspicious persons are moderately attractive and are writhing during the process, too bad for them. As a government inspector, it’s not your fault. They shouldn’t have dressed that way. Furthermore, we should also have on-demand government muffler inspections. You pull somebody over. Ask them to get out of the car. With their hands up. Now. If they’re fetching and you’re sensing some sort of chemistry, you sort of rub your kidneys, groan, make a face and confess you’re having lower back problems and would they mind terribly getting down on all fours and inspecting their own muffler? While posed thus, you stare at their bottom. Where COVID could lurk.
If they protest, slap them and scream: “YOU DARE NOT TITHE TO YOUR KING??!!”
I think our letter writer’s idea of federal government-mandated vaccinations is snappy. It should be expanded into our daily lives. Like the mandatory reading of my column.
We have a compulsory two-year draft for people with annoyingly high castrato voices teamed up with morbidly obese people. The team leaders with high Minnie Mouse voices will read, con gusto, my newspaper column while the tubby people sit on the listener’s chest.
And, if they don’t comply?
THEN we throw dog poop at them then hold them on the ground while we vaccinate them for dog poop infections…
John Boston is the only person in the SCV to study for his COVID test…