A Hot New Tax Proposal
I went to the bar with a liberal friend of mine the other night, and he thinks he has found the answer to Wisconsin's budget woes. He suggested a new tax that he dubbed the "asshole tax."
The concept is pretty simple - anything you buy that makes you an asshole is taxed at 100% the purchase price. Want to buy a Hummer? You pay the tax. Interested in a watch over $1,000? Better be willing to pay twice what it's worth. You think the tobacco tax increase in the current budget is bad - wait until that tax is applied on top of the asshole tax on expensive cigars.
Of course, we can all remember attempts at "yacht taxes" in the past. Yachts are certainly something that would fit in the definition of this new tax. However, where implemented, these types of taxes hit the wrong people. Yacht makers go out of business, laying off hundreds of workers - since nobody wants to buy a yacht anymore. Tourism suffers in areas frequented by boats. Everything trickles down to the little guy, who has to look for a new job. Who becomes the "asshole" then?
Furthermore, as entertaining as the idea of taxing assholes is, the tax is awfully subjective. Lefties would apply it to BMWs. I would apply it to Priuses. Democrats would apply it to jewelry. I would apply it to the purchase of Al Franken books. And on it goes.
As many of you know, the Ironman Triathalon was held here in Madison over this past weekend. Last Friday, Capitol square was crawling with these people - here to push their smug "healthy lifestyles" on us. They're all "look at me, I can run, bike and swim 100 miles." Only thousands of people a day do that near the US/Mexico border, and they have bullets flying at them. Of course, in order to train for the Ironman, you can't have a real job, so taxpayers are one day going to be paying for their hip and knee replacements. I digress.
So anyway, four of these jerk-offs slip into Jamba Juice about a half second before I do. One of them had the name of each of the marathons he's finished tattoed on the back of his calf (on his shaved leg, of course). When they finally get to the front of the line, they order the only thing you would expect this traveling pack of douchewads to order - four shots of wheat grass juice.
Naturally, nobody is ever dumb enough to blow four bucks on a shot of wheat grass juice - so the whole store has to stop while they figure out how to make them (it involves cutting grass with a scissors, then running it through this juicer machine). And I'm sorry - if I'm doing a shot of anything, there better be a reasonable expectation that I'm not wearing pants within hours.
So these health dorks down their shots of wheat grass juice, and of course... wait for it... high five after they do them. If I wasn't worn out from waiting for my Orange Dream Machine, I would have karate chopped them all, Kung Fu-style.
The lesson from all of this is the following: If Wisconsin ever does implement an asshole tax, I will dedicate my life to making sure wheat grass shots are on the list. I don't care if it puts every poor wheat grass grower out of business. These health hippies must be stopped.