It’s time to export all the stupid people in the United States to another country. Congress will go along with it as long as we can designate “stupid people” a commodity. A trade lawyer I consulted suggested that designating them as “spare parts” under the Anti-Counterfeit Trade Agreement would permit widespread exportation of stupid people from all over the country. It would also ensure that only “real” stupid people and not fake or “counterfeit” stupid people qualify. US export numbers will skyrocket, the debt limit will take care of itself, and we won’t owe China a penny. Or a Yuan. The economy will be saved. More importantly, I won’t have to deal with them any more.
I decided to send them to Canada – nobody lives there, anyway. Manitoba, to be exact. Why? It’s easier to spell than “Saskatchewan.” Manitoba is right there in the middle of the continent where the stupid people won’t be able to hurt themselves. Like one big padded room. They will be safe, happy, well cared for. Cable TV. Internet access — even broadband. I’m not unkind, you know. A team of teenagers will be available to help them turn on their TVs, stereos, DVD players, mobile phones. Friends and family members can visit anytime.
There are a lot of stupid people in the US, you say, so where do we start? We’re starting with the ones that bug me the most. It’s only fair. After all I am the brains here.
I deal with stupid people every day. I work in medical products litigation. Stupid people believe the TV lawyers’ mantra “Sue then Retire.” Each time I walk into my office, I am smacked upside the head by the stupid actions of stupid people who sue for big bucks. I learn way too much about them, sort of like when you interrupt your 74-year-old uncle in the shower. You’d be happier without the image.
I want them outta here.
Here’s a contender:
A woman named Mona was sick. Mona went to her doctor and was given a 30 day prescription for the drug that would treat her. She took it to the pharmacy where the pharmacist typed up a label and put it onto the bottle that the manufacturer dispensed the tablets in, because conveniently, those pills already came packaged in bottles of 30 pills. Terrific! Safe! Foolproof! How many times have you gotten medicine this way? Loads of times, I wager. Have you gotten it that way lately? Nope. Thank Mona.
Now Mona is a very precise woman. She carefully monitors everything. She uses a pedometer to count her steps, compares food package labels. Understands the food pyramid. She doesn’t walk when the “Don’t Walk” sign starts blinking. She knows the calorie, carbohydrate and vitamin content of everything she swallows. Brushes her hair precisely 100 strokes each night. Flosses. Therefore, she read the label that came with the pills from the drugstore, too. She opened the sealed package, and poured out her first dose. That’s when Mona’s ticket to Manitoba was punched.
Because when she dumped out that first pill into her hand, she also poured out a tiny crunchy plastic package about a half inch square. It contained salicylic acid – packages like that are put into many products to help keep the contents dry and to prevent mold. The little package in her hand said “DO NOT EAT.” So she didn’t. At all. She didn’t eat for 30 days while she took her medicine.
She didn’t call her doctor and scream:
“You never told me I couldn’t eat!”
She did not call the pharmacist and say:
“Can I at least have toast? Or Jell-O?”
And when she got very ill from (1) being stupid and (2) not eating for 30 days, did she feel embarrassed? Did she pack for Manitoba? No. She sued the pharmacy and the drug manufacturer for millions of dollars for pain, suffering, and lost wages. She won.
So Mona goes first.
And the woman who fell into the shopping mall fountain while texting and then sued the shopping mall? You saw her. She went onto local and national news shows to tell the story and to complain that no one helped her after she fell. She said repeatedly that she was embarrassed that everyone she knew had seen her fall into the fountain on YouTube. She was upset at being called “Fountain Lady.” She appeared on television voluntarily, where they replayed the video three times for people like me who hadn’t yet enjoyed it. She made absolutely sure that “Fountain Lady” was unmasked, because this caption appeared at the bottom left of the TV screen:
CATHY CRUZ MARRERO
“FOUNTAIN LADY” FIGHTS BACK
Her ticket is printing now.