Independence Day is when we as a country celebrate our success in breaking from Great Britain. Cynically enough, can also be viewed as the start of our own self imposed slavery. Not white or black, but political.

How do we break from political slavery? At this point, I don’t think we can. Maybe the entire web will collapse and there will be a chance to rebuild. Who has time to wait for that?

True independence is waking up and loving the one you are with, grabbing your daughter to give her a hug, making the perfect s’more, laughing so loud three tables in a restaurant look at you, and having a carpet picnic on a raining day with a dollar rental movie.

Those are freedoms that we can enjoy in this country; that the government has yet to touch. Those are freedoms that fill us with the happiness we may as well enjoy because there’s no point living in misery, complaints and bitchiness.

As “productive members of society,” we can’t escape big brother, we can’t escape our bosses, and we can’t escape our technological and financial entanglements.

But we can fill the moments in between with laughter, love, and unapologetic playfulness. Celebrate that spirit everyday.

Happy 4th of July…go have a good belly laugh and pass out some hugs.

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whew, this person just needed a drink how dare they, tho they say alcohol is a writers fuel, in this case it was pure Redbull less the alcohol that spawned this funny rant. DENIED

http://thedirtysun.com/abc-stores-commentary/

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Kalen J.’s Review

• Review from Kalen J.

  ABC Stores are yet another reason to be bitter while living in Virginia. Hardcore government regulated? Please. What is this? 1920?

  I don’t know about other cities, but liquor stores (aka Adult Candy Stores) are the size of warehouses in Massachusetts; this may be explained by how Boston’s passion for drinking is only second to our passion for the Red Sox.  

  So imagine my disappointment when I found myself standing next to aisles even *I* could see over.  Only ONE aisle for vodka? Only ONE aisle for rum? Where are the mixers? The kegs? The competitive SALES with the liquor store down the street? Where are the bags of ice?!

  But reality is reality and I live here now. Believe me when I say I did my best to keep the bitching to a minimum, as I have had no choice but to frequent this local ABC. But after this past Friday, the gloves came off.

  Like any other Friday night, I stopped to pick up a bottle of vodka and Jack Daniels. When it was time to pay, I handed the cashier a gift card that was acquired around Christmas.

  “I don’t know how to use that,” she says and hands it back.
  “Um. What do you mean?” I ask politely although confused.
  “I haven’t read the instructions yet. Can you come back a different day?”

  Only one word could describe the look on my face: *Seriously?*

  She proceeds to cancel my transaction and begins to ring in the people behind me. Now if you know me, you know it’s out of character to raise my voice or give someone attitude – but really, woman? WTF. Her nametag even read Asst. Manager.

  She finally grabs the instructions and barely skims the 5 lines that explains gift card transactions. She tells me I’ll have to wait for the other person on duty to come back from the bathroom.  In that amount of time, I read and understand the procedure myself and I’M the one who ends up walking them through it in the end.

  Need I say it again?

  *Seriously?!*

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