Surprisingly, Slackers Unite for Tougher Immigration Reform (WTF?)
Well, this is an age-old American issue. So, let’s get Slack Slacker’s angle on this never-ending story, shall we?
Sitting in a bar on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, we watched President Trump unveil his plans to address the United States' broken immigration system. Like any fair-minded Slacker, until the details sank in, we were all for welcoming our friends and neighbors into the fold. Knowing how rough living life on the down-low could be, our philosophy has always been: WTF, hook-em up!
But as we dipped our chips in salsa and threw back more than a few margaritas, someone was overheard saying how much the country would benefit from honest, hard-working, dedicated, productive immigrants, seeking a chance to contribute to America. At first, few amongst us made the connection, but when we did, it was on! Some of us were outright stunned, while others were outright outraged at the prospect of embracing people like this.
What if some of these honest, hard-working, dedicated, and productive immigrant types started showing up at our workplace someday? It could only lead to trouble. The immigrants will not only be there to work; they'll be working hard. We could be looking at an outright clash of civilizations.
Imagine the bastards arriving early at their workspaces, skipping lunch, and staying long after the Slackers have skedaddled for the day. Imagine these ambitious overachievers completing projects and assignments on time while meeting their targets, goals, and quotas every month. Imagine the immigrant doing all that work for half the compensation. Immigrants like these could spark ideas for American employers. This is a Slacker's nightmare.
We had Slackers sharing their stories of working alongside undocumented immigrants. There were horrid tales of immigrants refusing to cover for those chilling, drinking, and carousing on the job. Others would refuse to pilfer office supplies or even pad their expense accounts and would rat out anybody who did. Another Slacker volunteered a somber account of being outed by an immigrant worker for smoking weed in the company bathroom—honest my ass. No Slacker in their right mind would ever trust or confide in these S.O.B.s.
After a few more shots of Tequila and Mescal, we concluded that these people are a serious threat. Immigrants like these must be stopped by any means necessary. We can't have people like this contaminating America's workforce with a strong work ethic. We can't allow them to establish infectious values like accountability and responsibility. Under no circumstances will motivated go-getters with a can-do attitude be tolerated in any work environment where Slackers are employed.
To preserve the Slackers' way of life, we held an emergency meeting right there in the bar. With more shots of Tequila and Mescal to steady our thoughts, we spent the rest of the evening concocting a strategy to sabotage the president's efforts. He can't get away with cherry-picking the best and the brightest immigrants, only to force American workers to compete with them. Hell, some of these immigrants are really smart!
We've decided to join the GOP in suing President Obama for this blatant constitutional overreach. We'll now settle for nothing less than 50-foot stone walls encompassing the entire continental United States. We're seeking impeachment proceedings as soon as possible and reigniting an investigation into the validity of the President's birth certificate. Yes, we are now ready to accept the possibility that President Obama is a closet illegal himself.
Bottom line: Admittedly, we may be making a deal with the Devil, but we can not permit as many as 5 million honest, hard-working, dedicated, and productive immigrants to remain in this country. The very thought of it would deal a devastating blow to goldbricking deadbeats all over America. The dream would truly be dead.
So, we know you'll excuse our absence today, for the news was too shocking to handle, and the resulting hangover didn't help matters either. We'll C-Ya later this week, sober or not!
Sincerely, Lee Bines aka Slack Slacker 😎
Bottom Line: This Reto Radio Program was selected solely to look back at the past and understand what "We the People" will face in the very near future. Make no mistake: we're being lied to, misled, and misinformed for nefarious agendas. We've been systematically dumbed down to lack the critical thinking skills to assess why the fuck the elite class that's running roughshod over the American people, as well as the world at large. Sometimes, the truth can be found by revisiting the past to understand how these times have come to pass.
It is my view that before "We the People" can break the spell that's been cast upon us, we must see what's been successfully used in the past to enslave us now. The key to a peaceful and prosperous future is learning from the past. And remember, the good old days were never as good as we think they were.
Yours Truly, Lee Bines aka Slack Slacker 😎
Oh, Shit, I almost forgot the details of the program. Look out below! Everything you need to know is right down there.
CLOAK AND DAGGER
Cloak and Dagger opened over the NBC network on May 7, 1950. It had a short run on Sundays through the Summer, then switched to Fridays after the Summer. The last show aired on October 22, 1950.
The series told fictional stories of OSS agents during World War II who took dangerous missions behind enemy lines, knowing they may never return alive.
The series was based on the 1946 book "Cloak and Dagger: The Secret Story of the OSS" by Corey Ford and Alastair MacBain. It was a tense half hour of patriots and traitors, of triumph, tragedy, and failure. The stories did not always end in success -- sometimes, the hero/agent gave up his life. There were 22 episodes, broadcast in 1950.
The theme music was either identical or very similar to that used by Tales of the Texas Rangers.
Sherman Marks directed. The cast consisted of The Hungarian Giant, played by Raymond Edward Johnson, and Impy the Midget, played by Gilbert Mack.
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Slack Slacker Encounters the Pumpkin Head Man
Okay, boys and girls. Are you little ghouls ready for some terrifying shit?
Well, buckle up, you maniacs in making after this tall tale, you’ll be fitted for a straitjacket! Let’s get started, shall we?
It was 3:33 PM on the wall clock when KLB, our hardworking and dedicated office manager, left for a planned meeting with a significant advertising client. And since she's been so understanding and forgiving of my habitual Friday absences, I decided to slip out and buy a beautiful bouquet of roses to be found on her desk upon her return. KLB has been a dream to work with, so I didn't want her to think I was taking advantage of her goodhearted nature. Unfortunately, all that changed due to the most astonishing series of events that took place en route to the florist.
When I exited the building, amid the hustle and bustle of foot traffic, begging bums, and honking cabs, I heard someone calling my name from across the street. "Slack, Slack, over here." OMG, it was Snotty Hottie from my favorite spot on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Snotty is a lot of fun once she gets to know you, but as her name implies, until she does, Snotty can seem a bit standoffish. So when she suggested we share a cab uptown to get a head start on a pre-Halloween happy hour special, it wasn't an invitation to turn down. Besides, I could always order some flowers and have KLB's roses sent to the office. I got an app for that.
When we got to the spot, Lumpy Louie, the bartender, was wearing a pirate's costume and serving up freebees to the early arrivals. In fact, most of the patrons were in costumes. While some were downright ridiculous, others were frighteningly realistic. This was a party neither Snotty nor I were prepared for, but hey, a good time was in the atmosphere, and we weren't gonna miss it. "Louie!" I yell above the bar noise. "Four shots of the second best you got." "Grab a booth, and I'll send them right over", he says with a smile, so we did.
When our barmaid, Honey Bunny, brought the drinks with a free order of buffalo wings, Snotty and I threw back a few and started a trip down memory lane, reminiscing over past drinking adventures we'd had. After what seemed like a thousand Tequila shots and as many buffalo wings later, we'd swapped so many lies that I needed a trip to the men's room, but my exit from the booth was being blocked by one of the costumed patrons. "Excuse me," I say in as sober a voice as I could muster. No response. "Dude, if you don't want homemade lemonade all over your weird get-up, you'd be wise to move." Without a word, the tall Pumpkin-head figure draped in a long black duster sat down next to Snotty. She wasn't amused.
Not in the mood or any condition to play hero, I warned the Pumpkin head man that if he wanted trouble, Snotty would be happy to kick the shit out of his ass. In disbelief of my lack of chivalry, Snotty stood up and slapped the Pumpkin head man so hard, it spun on his shoulders like a top spinning on the ground. It was almost magical. By now, others in the spot were drunkenly observing what was happening at our table and were waiting for a good drunk fight to break out. And while things did look funny for a minute, the laughter and taunting soon turned to gasps of horror when the Pumpkin head stopped spinning. We were staring at Mr. Jack O. Lantern now, and he didn't look amused either.
The pumpkin-headed man glared evilly at the shocked barflies as they stampeded out the front door. But Snotty and I were trapped. Thinking as quickly as any inebriated man can be expected to, I grabbed Snotty by the arm, snatching her from the pumpkin-headed man's grip. And not a second too soon, because just then, out of his ghastly gaze came a burst of molten lava-like substance that burned a massive hole in the floor. Snotty and I ran for cover behind the bar, but another blast of the hot pumpkin juice proved that a bad idea. When the bar's countertop began smoldering, we made a mad dash for the ladies' room, where Lumpy Louie was hiding. Oddly, the Pumpkin Head man didn't follow.
We waited and waited and waited until the sounds of the joint being torn apart abated. Lumpy and I decided to take a chance and make a break for it, but Snotty said, "No, don't go." "This ain't over." And it was because of how Snotty said, "This ain't over," that I wondered if she had more than a clue about WTF was going on. "Hey, Snotty, I know you're a hottie, but is there any reason why the pumpkin-headed man seemed so interested in you?" "Yes, I'm a witch", she confessed.
Snotty went on to explain that every year, a few days before Halloween, her cult conjures up the Pumpkinhead men to take a worthless soul in payment for eternal youth and beauty. Snotty said that sometimes they can be hard to control and will even turn on their masters to take more souls than they should. "Holy shit", I say. Lumpy asked her how long she'd been messing around with the dark arts, and Snotty said 347 years. "Holy shit", I say again, again, and again. "So why is he here?" Lumpy and I wanted to know. Without hesitation, Snotty said, "He wants your soul, Slack, and he won't leave without it." I'm all out of holy shits by now, so I cut to the chase. "You're telling me I'm the worthless soul being sacrificed tonight?" "I am sorry, Slack, but I'm afraid so", she said. "Besides, if you think the Pumpkin head man is scary, you don't want to see what an angry 347-year-old witch can be like."
Feeling a sense of relief and confidence, Lumpy peered out of the ladies' room door and saw the pumpkin-headed man sitting silently at what was left of a corner table, just glaring at a cinder-covered floor. When he thought it was safe, Lumpy slipped past the orange-headed monster and escaped into the night. And the dirty bastard never looked back.
"So, what happens to me now?" I asked. And that's when Snotty gave me a ray of hope. After she took a moment to think about it, she realized I did actually try to save her life, and that wasn't the act of a worthless soul. She told me that if I could evade the Pumpkin Head man until 12:01 AM, October 31st, he'd have to look for another soul instead. I wanted to ask how I could do that, but then she conjured a broom and flew out of the ladies' room, leaving me with nothing but questions. The things you don't know about some people, I'm thinking to myself.
Again, I waited and waited and waited, but the Pumpkin head man was now standing at the smoldering bar, seemingly waiting and waiting and waiting, too. Realizing this is a standoff I can't afford to lose, I'll be here a while. I hope to return to work on Monday morning. And BTW, I'll have those roses for KLB too.
Yours truly, Lee Bines aka Slack Slacker👺
GOLDBRICKING GOOFING OFF HUMOR LEE BINES SLACK SLACKER TAKING IT EASY TGIF TIME OFF
Slack Slacker: How to Never Work a Hard Day in Your Life
The title of this post may seem like clickbait, but it's really a simple piece of advice I, Slack Slacker, wanted to share. It came to me while watching a warm, lazy sunrise on Miami’s South Beach last week. Being a sun lover and an early riser, by nature, I have ideas and positive thoughts that present themselves easily and consistently as though they were divinely inspired.
Now, I don’t want the reader of this “rambling rant” to think these ideas and positive thoughts lit a light bulb over my head like some epiphany from the heavens above, because many times, ideas and positive thoughts have penetrated my thick cranium after a night of excessive consumption of high-octane Tequila. I only admit this for full disclosure. I don’t condone or recommend this too often because it comes with well-documented negative consequences. That said, let's get to the meat of the matter.
As a lifelong slacker, I’ve often wondered why most people willingly join the rat race of life, seeking “careers” that may pay them handsomely but, at the end of the day, are stressful and unfulfilling. When this is how one lives for too long, they generally become resentful and disappointed with the choices they made, no matter what the rewards they’d received for their efforts and sacrifices they’ve made. Most people who venture down these “career” paths conclude that the only thing they’ve done with their lives is “Worked Hard” for a living, but they’ve never really lived.
"Those Who Realize What They Truly Love Will Only Do What They Love." Take me for instance, I've only truly loved reading, writing, thinking, researching, solving mysteries of all kinds, and sharing my thoughts and findings. But most rewarding of all is calling out those who do evil and shining a light on their dirty deeds. Oh yeah, I also like taking long walks, cooking my own food, and sitting on the beach at sunrise.
Sincerely, Lee Bines, aka Slack Slacker😎
Slack Slacker: How to Never Work a Hard Day in Your Life
The title of this post may seem like clickbait, but it's really a simple piece of advice I, Slack Slacker, wanted to share. It came to me while watching a warm, lazy sunrise on Miami’s South Beach last week. Being a sun lover and an early riser, by nature, I have ideas and positive thoughts that present themselves easily and consistently as though they were divinely inspired.
Now, I don’t want the reader of this “rambling rant” to think these ideas and positive thoughts lit a light bulb over my head like some epiphany from the heavens above, because many times, ideas and positive thoughts have penetrated my thick cranium after a night of excessive consumption of high-octane Tequila. I only admit this for full disclosure. I don’t condone or recommend this too often because it comes with well-documented negative consequences. That said, let's get to the meat of the matter.
As a lifelong slacker, I’ve often wondered why most people willingly join the rat race of life, seeking “careers” that may pay them handsomely but, at the end of the day, are stressful and unfulfilling. When this is how one lives for too long, they generally become resentful and disappointed with the choices they made, no matter what the rewards they’d received for their efforts and sacrifices they’ve made. Most people who venture down these “career” paths conclude that the only thing they’ve done with their lives is “Worked Hard” for a living, but they’ve never really lived.
"Those Who Realize What They Truly Love Will Only Do What They Love." Take me for instance, I've only truly loved reading, writing, thinking, researching, solving mysteries of all kinds, and sharing my thoughts and findings. But most rewarding of all is calling out those who do evil and shining a light on their dirty deeds. Oh yeah, I also like taking long walks, cooking my own food, and sitting on the beach at sunrise.
Sincerely, Lee Bines, aka Slack Slacker😎
P.S. If you think what I've written is difficult to achieve, these days, I recommend you ask AI for a plan of action to earn a living doing what you love to do. Be specific and honest with your prompt and see what you get. I'm betting you're going to be surprised! But whatever you do, get your mind out of that God Damned Cube!
Welcome back to another edition of Issues Under Fire. I’m Adam First, sitting in for Lee Bines, aka Slack Slacker. And I hope this pos...
