talkin'bout road rage on a sunny slow day

It was Memorial day and the cafe closed early. Dang! I didn't get my daily dose of just sitting around in. Seems I overslept and didn't get into the cafe untill the Bank opens. I was flabergassed. Closed? Waddayamean, closed? What about my daily dose? There were some other layabouts laying about. We got to talking about important stuff, like road rage. Thank God I don't live in Seattle. The way I figure, every commuting hour in Seattle is worth a visit to a shrink. That's the way I feel. O.K., I am not a Captain of Industry, I know. Not even a corporal of industry. I may qualify as a private industry.
But the way I figure, every day living without road rage is worth a million. If more people did a lot of nothing, I figure, this would be a much better world. No commuting, no crap jobs, no B.S. No war in Iraq, Darfur, no meddling and mucking about. Doing nothing has not been explored as a profound statement for the times. It's easy to do in a do-do culture. Be-ing, just being, is a toughy.
I know the fears and the objections. Who is gonna pay the taxes for the Pentagon and the Natinal Spy Agency? The answer, dear naive reader, is simple: the same people as who is paying for them now! Your grandchildren!! (Gramatical error? No, it be Presidential newspeak, tank u vermuch.) Let's all drink to debt!
Oh man, I'm tired. Nap time! Wheee!