Postal Service Is On The Verge of Collapse, And I Have a Problem With That
Not just because I'm old-school and still actually mail things, including an occasional thank-you card for anyone who hasn't pushed me into traffic lately.
But because, as is commonly known, postal workers are cuckoo-crazy, sore-picking, bugger-chomping, eyeball-rolling, soul-deadened nutjobs.
Crushed by the banality of their jobs, these droids no longer have any idea how to have a human interaction not involving weighing a package or selling you some wrapping tape.
They are defeated, rage-filled outcasts waiting for a chance to wreak greater havoc than simply handing you some Liberty Bell stamps when you'd specifically asked for Bette Davis.
These looney tunes were scary enough within the confines of the post office, but at least that was indoors and a semi-controlled situation.
Do we really want these zombified postage hawkers wandering the streets without any guidance whatsoever?
This is surely going to become a real-life, unwanted George Romero sequel.
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