They’re stealing our organs. Assemblyman Richard Brodsky, a Westchester County Democrat, has decided that when you die, it should be presumed that you wanted to donate your organs. It’s an opt-out decision, rather than an opt-in. Unless one of your survivors is present and objects, doctors are taking your organs and using them as they see fit.
First, jerky, pass a danged balanced budget.
Second, paraphrasing a pro-abortion mantra: keep your laws off my organ(s).
This is a prime example of Albany’s arrogance. The state is burning down around them, and the most pressing issue seems to be figuring out a way to take your organs from you without your express consent.
If Albany wants to know why people are fed up with all of them — not just Republicans or Democrats — it’s because of this fundamental disconnect. Our current crop of politicians has no clue what’s important to New Yorkers; they’re only concerned with getting reelected.
‘Puter’s beginning to think picking random large scale drug dealers from the state’s prison population to serve as legislators would be better than what we have now. At least drug dealers understand basic business principles like balanced budgets and believe in swift, certain justice.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.