Whoopee!

"Sex! Big thick cocks! Naked women!"

Now that I have your attention, I've been yearning to write something that touches all of us and how better to do that than to write about reality. I know, I know, this is Literotica and the reason why you are here is to escape reality. But, if just for a few minutes, I would personally appreciate it if you could remove your blindfolds, undo your ties, put some clothes on, and pay attention. We all have the same problems, but I think that I may have the solution to help fix some of our problems.

How many of you guys can't get it up anymore? Viagra and Cialis are miracle drugs, aren't they? My doctor prescribes Andro-gel, a testosterone supplement. He said that if I take the Andro-gel without getting cancer (God help me) that I won't need to take Viagra or Cialis. He's right. Matter of fact, if ever I find myself at Fenway Park without security, I know that I could hit a few homeruns out of the park ala Barry Bonds.

And you women who are experiencing vagina dryness and more unsightly hair appearing on your upper lips, what are you doing about that? Are you taking hormone supplements or have you stopped those fearing the side effects? Don't you care or are you just done with sex and done with men and are happy living alone with your six cats? Well, I can't say that I blame you. Enough is enough after all. Trust me, you and your dildo are better off without men. Your girlfriend, though, isn't very attractive. Maybe, if she didn't dress so much like a man, she'd be better looking, maybe, kind of, not really, not at all.

Did you ever ask or wonder if your father had the same problems with erectile dysfunction or your mother if she experienced vagina dryness and what they did about it? For those of you who are not into reading incest stories, I know how unpleasant it is to think about your mother and father having sex, but they did, at least once. Speaking of which, did you ever think of your mother sucking cock? Well, she did last night and she was good at it. Just kidding. So, what do you think? Do you think that they just stopped having sex when Dad couldn't bury the bologna and Mom was never again in the mood to get down and dirty?

Let's see a show of hands. How many of you have been divorced? Wow. It's worse than I thought. Maybe it is wrong to poll this audience, a bunch of sex craved writers and readers, but why do you think that is? I mean, why do you think your marriages failed? Was it the lack of sex? Yeah, the guy way in the back just said that it was too much sex. His wife was a nympho-maniac. Lucky, but unappreciative, bastard. Hey, Buddy, what's her telephone number? No, I don't want sex from her, I, uhm, just want to ask her a few pertinent questions for my research with my next story. Yeah, that's it, it's just research. Is she cute? Is she busty? Does she swallow?

There I am sitting in my 8-year old car at a stoplight hoping it makes it through another winter without a major repair and a brand new car, one of those expensive German engineered ultimate driving machines, pulls up beside me.

"What did I do wrong in my life?" I say out loud for no one to hear.

I feel that I have worked hard, as hard as any other guy, but never got a break, a leg up, a hand out, or a whoopee. It pains me to think of lesser people like Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, and Lindsay Lohan who have enormous wealth with the ability to go anywhere, any time and to do anything. Geez, Paris Hilton never even finished high school. Did Britney Spears complete high school? Here I am with two college degrees and I can't get a job. They don't want guys like me, guys who expect the money they deserve. Instead, they would rather hire a woman or a younger man and pay them less.

There I am sitting in my 8-year old car at a stoplight hoping it makes it through another winter without a major repair and a man in a wheelchair slowly inches his way across the intersection.

"There go I, but for the grace of God. Geez, that poor bastard. I'm glad that's not me. I feel so bad for his plight that he makes me more appreciate my life and what I have."

The man makes you realize that your life is not so bad after all. Hey, at least I can walk.

Then, the man wheels himself over to a primo handicapped parking spot and to one of those new custom vans; you know the ones that cost gazillions of dollars. He hits a remote that not only opens the door but lowers a ramp. What the fuck? Hey, I'm done giving my money to Jerry's kids.

We are all brainwashed to conform, to accept, and to change our negative thoughts to positive ones. Yet, after a while, after living life without an improvement, and after experiencing history repeating itself with the misery that I have shouldered for so long still there weighing me down, where is my piece of the American pie? What happened to my American dream? Why doesn't my wife, girlfriend, and mistress look like Jaclyn Smith or Linda Carter? Why can't I afford to go to Disney World?

I blinked and 25 years passed me by. I'm tired. I'm old. I'm angry. And I'm not taking it anymore. I want my slice of pie!

"It's not fair!" I shout for no one to hear. "I'm somebody, too. If I was there at the right place and at the right time or if my mother or father was somebody or knew somebody or if I could only win the lottery, I would show them who I am. I'm someone, too."

I look around at my wife, girlfriend, and mistress and they reflect the same disillusionment that I just voiced. Is depression and disillusionment contagious or is it just me? I look at my children, the legitimate and illegitimate ones, hoping beyond hope that they have a better life than I did, yet knowing that they will follow in my footsteps because it is impossibly impossible to break out of the cycle of ordinariness at birth. What chance do they have? Where are their opportunities?

I am no one. I am nobody. Yet, I am me. Even though my government works hard to make me feel less than I am, I don't feel that way when I look in the mirror, when I write a story, and when I bench press twice my weight. I feel like I can take on the world, that is, until I turn on the television and there it is again, I'm no one and nobody. I feel so insignificant. Everyone appearing on television is rich. It is only the viewers who are poor. Do you think Bill Gates and Oprah are sitting home eating stale potato chips while watching television? No, they are going places and doing things. They are living life large and I am sitting here writing this essay.

Nothing has changed since the middle ages. If you were born to the royal family, then you lived a life of privilege and if you were born as a peasant, then you were a peasant. Sure, there are more opportunities today to make something of yourself, but the odds are overwhelmingly against you to fare better than your father did. Once thriving with Cadillac Eldorado fins and Elvis, the middle class is disappearing. Now, there are the rich and the poor. Only, there is a new class, the super rich. No longer does a millionaire receive respect. Matter of fact, millionaires are quickly becoming the new middle class. That high regard, once reserved for millionaires, is now given to billionaires. You cannot even make Forbes list of the 400 most wealthy unless you have a billion bucks. Wow! When did that happen? Oh, when Bush took office.

Yes, of course, I am aware of all the success stories about those whose mother washed floors so that she could send her son to college to be a doctor or a lawyer, but for every one of those stories, there are a million others where kids drop out of high school. Why is this, the greatest, wealthiest, and most powerful country in the world at the middle of the heap when it comes to taking care of and providing for its citizens? I'll tell you why. Corruption and greed has ruined the high ideals our forefathers envisioned when they drafted the Constitution. We ought to be ashamed. We need to write a new constitution, one for the real people, you and me.

Bush talks about leaving no kid behind. Too late, the bus has already left and the only ones on it are only rich, white kids. This country has enough money to send every kid to college. We don't because there's no money in it. They don't want their citizens educated; they want them mindlessly working and if they manage to burden themselves with school loans to educate themselves, good for them and more power to them. By the way, the interest rate on college loans, once a low and constant rate, has gone through the roof. You know who you can thank for that, don't you?

My children were doomed before they were born. God help them because I cannot and no one else will.

Adjustable mortgage rates? Credit cards with interest rates that would embarrass a loan shark? Credit card late fees? Credit card debt for every poor American? Insurance you don't need and can't afford? Work, work work? Who thinks all this stuff up? And how does our elected officials, public servants of the people, get this passed through as laws without the support of the average Joe? Are you kidding me? Enough is enough.

I filled my car up with gas at a self-serve gas station paying the exorbitant out-of-my-control cost per gallon. It makes me angry that my government, a country who possesses more fossil fuels than any other country in the world but makes sure, at all cost, that is a fact not known to the populace of Americans. Also, we outright own all the oil refineries in Saudi Arabia. We have just as much control if not more over OPEC than any other country in the world, yet here I am shelling out money on gas every week that I can ill afford. Not to mention, my home heating oil delivery yesterday was more per gallon than it cost for gas. WTF! Are you kidding me?

It makes me angry that my country knows better than to make 6,000 pound, gas guzzling SUV's, but blames the people for buying them. Why blame the people? Put the blame where it belongs; blame the manufacturers for making them. The manufacturers love making the big SUV's and minivans because they are considered trucks and exempt from the CAFÉ laws of the 80's that require that all vehicles must get 25 miles to a gallon of gas. SUV's and minivans are the reason why GM closed down factories and put so many people out of work in Flint Michigan. Hey, why spend more to make the full size Chevy Caprice wagon, Buick Roadmaster, Pontiac Bonneville, Oldsmobile 88 and 98, and Cadillac DeVille, all that got 27 miles to the gallon on the highway, when we can make Suburban, Denali's and Escalades that cost us less to manufacture, cost our customers twice as much to buy, and only get 18 miles to a gallon on the highway. Greed is alive and well in America.

And you know what else? The cars that they phased out, the Caprice, Roadmaster, Bonneville, 88, 98, and DeVille, were safer than any SUV or minivan on the road today. I don't care how many airbags they have to put in these new cars to make them safe. They aren't. The minivans are a crumpling tin can and the SUV's are a rollover waiting to happen. The automobile took a turn backwards when Ronnie continued his acting career from Hollywood to the White House.

When Bush sold the Texas Rangers to be president and to avoid a conflict of interest (I'm not sure how being the owner of a baseball team and president of the country is a conflict of interest) why didn't he divest his interest in oil? Why aren't his continued personal oil wealth and the oil wealth of his family, especially Papa Bush, not a conflict of interest? Please, someone explain that to me. Can you say Gulf War? Can you say War in Iraq? Now, there's a conflict of interest.

I remember the gas stations of the 50's and 60's when the service station attendant would pump your gas, check your oil and tires, and wash your windshield. Back then, the price of a gallon of gas cost a tenth of what it cost today and climbing. Just a quick survey, are you earning ten times what your father made? Just another quick survey, with a new car costing $2,000 and a new house costing $10,000, do you think your father was living better back then than you are now?

Another thing that disappeared with the emergence of self-service gas stations is women flashing their bodies to the attendants. No longer can a woman pull up to a gas station wearing a very short skirt and a low cut top and find an attendant to flash. Now, she has to get out of the car like the rest of us and pump her own gas. Yeah, sure, I've seen the photos of women pumping their own gas naked, but those photos and visions are not as erotic as the surprise look on the attendants face when he is imagining seeing more than what the woman is actually showing. Less is always more when it comes to erotica. I would rather see a flash of white panty than a woman standing there bottomless.

Can you imagine a gas station owner reflecting about future gas stations? "Future gas stations will no longer need guys like you monkeys to pump gas," he said looking at his 5 grease stained employees. "All the pumps will be self-serve with people pumping their own gas. They'll only need a cashier to accept your cash if you don't have a credit or a debit card. And gas will cost 10 times what it cost now." The five employees look at the owner laughing while wondering if he is drunk or crazy.

"Hey, Boss, what's a debit and a credit card?"

My friend owns a gas station and he swears up and down that he only makes 2 cents for every gallon sold. Don't you feel sorry for him? Don't. Do you believe him? I don't. He has a new SUV, his wife has a new luxury car, they live in an expensive house in the good neighborhood, they take a nice vacation each year, and he has a boat. Damn, he must sell a million gallons a day to buy all of that with only two pennies.

My wife works long, hard hours at a supermarket and she is always complaining that the manager cuts her hours. Because she is a loyal and responsible employee and has been there longer than other employees, due primarily to attrition, she earns more per hour than the part-time high school kid who works beside her. Yet, any time the market wants to lower their cost, they look to their higher hourly paid employees.

Now, I wouldn't mind, but aren't these mega supermarkets making money? Every time I walk through the door their prices are up a few pennies from the last time I walked through the door. Multiply those few pennies by the thousands of items they inventory and multiply that by the number of customers. Wow! Greed is alive and well in America and it's not just in the gas stations, but supermarkets, too.

My doctor tells me that I need all this medication that I cannot afford. He makes me feel sick. I don't feel sick. I feel pretty good until I look at the half dozen pill bottles lined up like little tombstones in my medicine chest. It is a foreboding sight. I cough and make the sign of the cross every morning before opening that medicine chest door.

He tells me that it is just preventative medicine. He tells me that it is necessary to keep me healthy, alive, and living well. Only, my father lived to be 90 and never took a pill other than an uncoated 500mg aspirin and not the 87mg aspirin that the pharmaceutical companies charge 3 times more for 5 times less active ingredients. His mother lived to be 97 and never took a pill other than the few home health remedies that she inherited from her mother.

My doctor took delivery of one of those new expensive German engineered ultimate driving machines. It's nice and he must be doing well preventing me from getting sick. Thanks, Doc, I think. My prescription mediation quadrupled since Bush took office. God bless America, I think.

I hope my 8-year-old car makes it through the winter without needing a major repair. Probably, I could afford a new car if I didn't have to pay Bush so much money for gas and for oil and if I did not have to labor in a life of servitude and work until I am 75-years-old to maintain my health insurance and to afford to buy food at the new mega supermarket that they just opened. I don't know how these supermarkets do it, when they are cutting employee's hours and obviously not making any money because they have to raise their prices by pennies every day and open new mega stores.

And, probably, I could afford a new car if I wasn't so sick and needed to buy all of this expensive, preventative medication, even though I feel fine. "Cough."

Do you remember when you had to read George Orwell's 1984 in high school? Do you know why he titled the book 1984? Hint, he wrote it in 1948. More of what he envisioned then is happening now. Soon, there will be one gas station, Exxon, one bank, Bank of America, one superstore, Wal-Mart.

Our government does not want us to think. Just shut up, go to work, and pay our taxes. It's a depressing glimpse of life when you are not part of the inner circle and when you are just another ant on the ant farm. Don't you feel that way sometimes? Don't you feel that you have not even had a new thought, something that has never been said or done? Been there, done that. All of those who have come and gone before you, have already said what you have yet to think, or have done what you haven't had the chance to do. Although it is safe, it's boring to be so unoriginal.

In closing, here is my solution to many of the problems that we all face together today.

If we middle class, poor Americas all stood up, voted, and wrote our elected officials that enough is enough. Things would improve.

It is time that our elected officials kept their campaign promises and were held accountable and voted out when they did not. It is time that the most powerful lobby in the Congress is not big business, but the business of the little people. It is time we all stood up and protested as one huge entity that cannot be denied and ignored. This is our time. We have the power to make the changes to insure ourselves, our children, and our children's children a better quality of life. If only we could stand together, vote, and speak our minds instead of allowing our government to steamroll us into submission and apathy, we could all help to make America a better place.

"God bless America, but God bless me and you, too."

"Sex! Big thick cocks! Naked women!"

Thanks for reading this. You can return to what you were doing with that...is that a woman or a man? And what are you doing with that big, black dildo? Oh, my God! I didn't know it would fit sideways.