If I Had as Much Fucking Money as Jeff Bezos and Those Guys

 

When I’m riding around in my cripple van, lately I tend to think about guys like Jeff Bezos and how much fucking money they have.

Because my cripple van is about seven years old so it’s gonna soon be time for me to think about getting a new one. But that’ll cost me about $65,000 and I have no idea where I’m gonna get that kind of money.

But if I had as much fucking money as Jeff Bezos and those guys, I’d be able to pay cash for a new cripple van every day without batting and eye.  I could buy one every day as routinely as most people buy a cup of coffee every day.

And the same thing goes for wheelchairs. The wheelchair I’m sitting in costs about $25,000. And I ‘d better make sure it holds up for at least five years because if you need a third party such as Medicaid or private insurance to pay for a new chair, like most normal human beings do, they’ll only consider your claim every five years.

But if I had as much fucking money as Jeff Bezos and those guys, I could have an ever-growing fleet of wheelchairs. I could have more damn wheelchairs than I have shirts and I could contemplate which chair to use each day the same way I contemplate which shirt to wear. “Geez, it’s such a warm and sunny day. I think I’ll ride around, in my chartreuse wheelchair with the leopard-skin upholstery.

And whenever a cripple needs insurance or Medicaid or some third party to buy them a wheelchair or pay for repairs or something, we have to get a note from a doctor swearing on a stack of Bibles that a wheelchair that works is “medically necessary” for us.

But if I had as much fucking money as Jeff Bezos and those guys and I could pay cash for a new wheelchair, I could get any chair I wanted any time. And nothing would have to be “medically necessary.” I could insist that my new chair be equipped with fully-loaded confetti cannons and the wheelchair company would gladly sell it to me, no questions asked.

If I had as much fucking money as Jeff Bezos and those guys, I’d never need another damn doctor’s note.

How come Jeff Bezos and those guys have a zillion times more money than I do? They must work a zillion times harder than me. I work about eight hours a day. They must work eight zillion hours a day.

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Sniffing Out Fake Cripples

 

I knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m surprised it took so long.

But a guy was busted recently at the airport in Charlotte, North Carolina when federal agents  discovered over 23 pounds of cocaine hidden in the cushion of his motorized wheelchair. The agents said the man came in on a flight from the Dominican Republic and the cocaine had a street value of $378,000.

But the worst thing about the story is that the guy was just pretending to be crippled. Thus, the agents confiscated both the cocaine and the wheelchair.

I’ve always thought that cripples would make good drug mules. I figure that we could easily slip past cops with all kinds of drugs stashed away  in the deep recesses of our wheelchairs because nobody ever suspects us. Everybody thinks we’re so damn innocent, like Tiny Tim.

I wondered when the druglords would catch on to this, And when they finally did, wouldn’t you know it that they didn’t even hire a real cripple to do the job. I guess they think we’re all as innocent as Tiny Tim, too.

This really pisses me off. And it riles me up even more when I think about how they probably acquired the wheelchair in which the cocaine was hidden. Some druglord's hired goons probably wheelchair jacked some poor crippled pedestrian in the Dominican. They probably jumped out from behind some bushes, dumped the cripple out of their wheelchair and made off with it.

But there is something positive to take away from this story. (You know how I am. I take lemons and make lemonade.) I see a golden career opportunity in this for me. You know how agents sometimes use dogs to sniff out drugs, right? Well I’m thinking maybe I could rent myself out to spot fake cripples. Just like some dogs have a keen nose for drugs, I have a keen eye for cripples. Most people on the street can’t tell the difference between a muscular dystrophy cripple, a spina bifida cripple and an amputee. We all look alike.

But I’ve been around thousands of cripples in my life so I can spot a fake one a mile away. First, the body of just about every legit cripple is atrophied or deformed in some way. So if there’s a guy sitting in a wheelchair who otherwise looks all buff and perfect, he’s probably faking it.

And second, take a close look at the wheelchair itself. If this guy really has been living la vida cripple, the wheelchair will show it. It’ll be dirty and dusty. The upholstery will be cracked. There will be duck tape somewhere, The more the wheelchair looks like it just came off the showroom floor, the more likely it is that the cripple occupying it is a fraud.

These are just a few of Smart Ass Cripple’s faux cripple detection tips.

Maybe if the fake cripple drug mules are getting busted left and right because I’m on the job sniffing them out, the druglords will adjust their business models and start hiring real cripples as drug mules. Those are the kind of lucrative jobs cripples need to be able to buy expensive shit like motorized wheelchairs.

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The Heartbreak of Incontinence

 

 

 

You can judge the inclusiveness of a society by its diaper commercials. I believe Shakespeare said that. Or maybe it was Groucho Marx. I always get the two of them mixed up.

Anyway, back when I attended a segregated public school for cripples in the 1960s, there was a kid who was about 12 years old but he wore diapers. Everybody knew he wore diapers even though nobody ever talked about it out loud. Everybody always whispered about it when the kid passed by. The kid walked on crutches, and he was always kind of slumpy and gloomy. People probably thought he was like that because he was carrying around a load in his diaper. But it was probably because he was carrying around a load of shame because he wore diapers but he wasn't a baby. He was experiencing the heartbreak of incontinence.

There were no diaper commercials back then to make someone like him feel hope. But today you see commercials where happy, confident adults are playing tennis and riding horseback while wearing diapers.

That shows how far we’ve come as a society. Being incontinent doesn’t mean you have to hide away anymore. Life is still full of possibilities.

Of course, those commercials also show how far we still have to go. All the happy, confident people in those commercials are old. That implies that we of the continent majority will accept you and your diaper wearing as long as you are old. But if you’re young and incontinent, well, there are no happy, confident role models for you. And the reason they’re happy and confident isn’t because they aren’t incontinent anymore but because they’re not afraid of springing an embarrassing leak.  In other words, they feel good about themselves because they bought this product that empowers them to pass as continent. The subtext here is that springing a leak is still something to be ashamed of.

I’d like to see commercials where a happy, confident father walks his daughter the bride down the aisle when suddenly he springs a leak for all the world to see. But keeps strutting proud because so what. It’s just a leak. What’s the big deal? Better yet, it would be so cool if the young bride was the one who sprung the leak but still kept moving forward.

When I see commercials like that, I’ll know we’ve found a cure for the heartbreak of incontinence.

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