Solution to overpopulation just millions of Greyhound tickets away
Sometime in the next few days, the U.S. population will pass the 300 million mark.
That explains the stinking long line I got stuck in at Starbucks the other morning.
Oh, how I yearn for those good old days of yore when our nation’s population was a mere 269,256,458. Finding downtown parking spots was such a breeze back then.
As usual I’ve given this matter enough thought to come to a snap conclusion:
Some of you people will have to go.
No, really. You’re going to have to get the hell out – now!
I’m not talking about criminals. Build more prisons to take care of them.
I’m not talking about illegal aliens from Mexico, either. Quite frankly, these hardworking people can stay. They actually contribute more to this country than many of our natural-born clods.
Dr. Phil, for example. Or all those idiots who drive in the freeway passing lane yet poke along at 5 mph UNDER THE FREAKING SPEED LIMIT!
This isn’t a dictatorship. I can’t just throw out everybody who annoys me.
That’s why I’m asking you – my faithful readers – to come up with a list so that, together, we can toss all of the bums out.
Send me your lists via the information listed below. The top three submitters (witty explanations on choices are a plus) will each win a DVD copy of that cinematic classic on bad behavior, “The Jerk.”
I’m not cruel. I don’t want to ship anyone off to a desert island. I’m thinking more along the lines of millions and millions of one-way bus tickets north.
I believe Canada holds the answer to America’s overpopulation problems.
Have you been to Canada lately? It’s emptier than Paris Hilton’s noggin.
There’s so much empty real estate, we can give America’s rejects their own city. Check out my catchy deportation motto:
“There’s Plenty of Room in Saskatoon.”
Doug’s list of jerks who need to go:
“Shirtless sporting event chest painters.
“Drivers with bass speakers that thump louder than King Kong’s heartbeat.
“A certain prosecuting attorney whose last name rhymes with “sucker.”
“Telemarketers.
“Televangelists.
“Television weather geeks who can’t go through a lousy winter without uttering the words “white stuff.”
“Davenport Hotel flowerpot urinators. (How gross. That’s what the sidewalks outside the STA Bus Plaza are for.)
“Donald Trump.
“Donald Trump’s hairstylist.
“Soggy toothpick chewers.
“Mexican restaurant servers who warn you that the plate is very hot. We all get it by now. The plate’s hot. What do you people take us for?
“Smug Toyota Prius owners.
“Adults who move their lips when they read.
“Ditto ventriloquists.
“Nazi meter cops.
“Certain editors. (Names to be announced after my newsroom coup.)
“Sons of Phil Harris.
“Mimes.
“The Family Circus.
“Anyone who still thinks the Gallagher watermelon-smashing bit is funny.
“Creepy coked-up Keebler elves.
“People who push the elevator button after it’s already lit.
“Downtown sidewalk bike riders.
“Anyone with a mullet.
“Overpaid power company execs.
“Dog owners who talk baby talk to their pets. (Example: “Ooh, does baby wanna go poopsy? Oh, yes he do. Oh, yes he doooo …”)
“Paris Hilton.
“Fools who don’t at least buy The Spokesman-Review on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays.