MORONS

Among us walks the ever present moron.  A simple-minded soul with no social redeeming qualities whatsoever.  A pain in the tookus, much like the agitating squeal of fingernails across a chalkboard, they are unmistakable.  And much like the weeds in the garden of a foreclosed home, they're out of control and spreading fast!

He's the moron ahead of you in the supermarket express lane trying to cash a  payroll check from a taxi cab company located in Buenas Aires, while another moron sneaks up behind you in line and begins unloading 56 cans of cat food from his cart, all the time muttering something about a two for one coupon.

I first started noticing these losers several years ago at the county fair when I discovered I couldn't distinguish the fairgoers from the carney workers.  Then I began to spot them in front of me in the Taco Bell drive thru negotiating  the price of a crunchy double cheesy chalupa.  Then I spotted them at the local post office (both sides of the counter) wondering how fast express mail really was.  But now I fear they are everywhere. Hell, you probably have a few in your own family.  I know I do.

They ruin almost every daily experience. They pick and chew and spit where you ought not to pick and chew and spit.  They clog up our roadways by motoring at the speed of a wounded snail. 

Or they think themselves NASCAR drivers while zipping through traffic at remarkably high speeds of stupidity.  

Moronics who smoke in front of restaurants, so you damn near gag to death before you can get to your table. 
Imbeciles unable or unwilling to grasp the idea of  personal space, insisting on touching foreheads while speaking to you. 
And the thumb-less crumbs of humanity that try to maneuver a 4 wheel 18 foot high Dodge Ram pickup truck into a parking space clearly marked "compact."
Or those mindless neurosurgeons who take up two parking spaces so their doors don't get dinged and damaged like their IQ!
Or the gorilla-like female baboon dragging her kid across Walmart by his hair so she can get to the stack of 3 for a buck peanut butter cups.
Or that eyebrow connected fat head who talks on his phone all the #$^'n time!
Driftless seaweed dogs paddling in the ocean of humanity who flip you off for coming to a complete stop at a school crossing.
Jerks who pass on the left.
Muu-muu wearin' mamas who try to  text, gab or paint on eyeshadow while driving a mini van full of Jerry Mahoney type kids to the public pool.
Nostril-flaring, arm-flappin hammerheads who shout out to their kids at graduation ceremonies.
Sardine-faced, mullet-wearin', cat box-smellin', watermelon butts who sit right next to me when there are at least 200 other empty seats in the joint.

Now I'm not perfect...ask my wife.  I have foibles.  However, I don't stand in front of the cheese department in the supermarket asking a wedge of roquefort directions to the public restroom.  Nor do I  drive around with my radio blaring so loud it causes cracks in my windshield.  I don't talk in theatres, snort at funerals or wear a tank top and flip flops to the church.

Enough is enough.  It's time we begin to WEED THE GARDEN.  We can no longer accept these thick-headed human being wannabees as our own.  No longer can we tolerate these knuckle-dragging, drooling Neanderthals to wander our shops, roadways and voting booths.  I am calling all people of truth, faith and clean fingernails to unleash their displeasure and join me in finding "them morons" a place of their own.