Let’s face it. New Year’s Eve 2020 should be filed under ‘socks for Christmas.’ Let’s take a stagger down memory lane for all the New Year’s Eve celebrations from 1975 to 2019. They were all proper celebrations. Nothing but public drunkenness and good wishes for your fellow citizens. Happy New Year to one and all from the BSBFB! And try not to slobber on too many strangers.
How cute. The robots want to know if you love them. Answer carefully, but promptly. After all, robots also say things like, “Please put down your weapon. You have 20 seconds to comply.“
Get any snow yesterday? The meteorologist was predicting a blizzosnowiceopocalypse. If you’re from the southerly latitudes, and don’t know how we do it up north, here’s an example of how everyone in Maine shovels their driveway. Except everyone in Maine has their driveway plowed, except for the 70 percent of the population who plow driveways for a living, who plow their own.
Great stuff, no doubt. But he’s missing an opportunity here. How about some good old fashioned competition for the public tram? I mean real competition, not skateboarding on rails. Why not screw on a couple of seats, and then start charging less money than public transportation? Hire some bums to push the things along. All the track you need is already laid out for you by taxpayers. I bet you could get some sweet, sweet venture capital money and run at a loss for years while still making yourself rich.
You’ll need a neato name for your pallet transit company, though. A catchy name, a fly website, and little else is essential in today’s economy. What would be a great name for a transportation company that leeches off of public infrastructure, ignores all employment and safety laws, and takes investor money to avoid having to turn a profit indefinitely while still enriching investors? He should call it Uber.