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Sex: I've Got Your Attention--- The Texas Teat Tax

Saturday, December 29 2007 @ 01:46 PM CST

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By Don M. Fisher

As Uncle Hugh used to say, "If people are meant to be righteous, how come churches have to drive out saloons, instead of the other way around?"

Get ready for centrifugal vomiting!

Coming to a cheesy, overpriced theme park near a Jerry Jones wet dream near you, ALCOHOL!

Yep, Six Flags and Hurricane Harbor want to sell beer.


You can swim in the water, but I wouldn’t drink it.

The only place in the park that won’t smell like men’s room porcelain and used corny dogs is the log flume, where the big chunks will be splashed out along with the children under six.

Umbrella rental available under the parachute drop and roller coaster loop.

The smartest man I ever knew, Luther Hulen, who graced my life as my grandfather, once pointed out that paying six bits to ride any conveyance that lets you off at the same place you got on, means you’re going nowhere but broke.

Once again, the Amurkin free enterprise system has conclusively proved that, when you’re ready to stop going broke, sell dope.

Just ask John DeLorean or Adolph Coors.

Could it be that a New York company is losing money trying to operate an entertainment venue in Arlington, Texas, because they’re lost as a goose in a Houston suburb?

Of course the management line is that there’s no mercenary motive here; customers have been asking for beer in the park.

And marijuana, cocaine, and live nude girls.

Knowing the quirky Dallas-Fort Worth Metrosex, there’s probably been a slight demand for dead nude girls.

And after the Cowboys and the Rangers win or lose, we can all go drown our sorrows or celebrate — well, the Cowboys, anyway — by dismembering our pickled inner ears while screaming in self-inflicted terror.

Teat Tax

And the Texas judiciary has joined the Legislature in it’s never-ending war on the female form.

If Boticelli were alive today, he’d owe the State of Texas five bucks for Venus’ attributes.

Now, what brilliant legislative boob calculated $2.50 per nipple as the value of a woman’s breasts?

But District Judge Scott Jenkins last week ruled that a fin cover charge does not constitute a violation of free speech.

Which should be a relief to every slack-jawed Texas jackaknapes who has uttered in expletive-deleting wonder:

"Godamighty! Wudja lookit them, Elmer!"

The estimated $40 million that the tax is supposed to generate for sexual assault victims — who somehow enjoy a more elevated status than homicide victims or robbery victims or plain vanilla assault victims — doesn’t include revenue from porn shops, coin-operated live nude girls, or a two-drink minimum.

Now, understand that the last time I went to a strip joint, the proprietor was Jack Ruby.

But somehow it’s evil to display a woman’s breasts or a guy’s Chippendale, but it’s Amurkin free enterprise to sell overpriced T-shirts, tennis shoes, and jeans made Asian street girls’ offspring, then pay them a cup of rice and some nice fresh cockroaches.

Speaking Of Sex

New Mexico is canceling its federal grant program for abstinence-only.

It seems that the save-yourself-until-marriage plan doesn’t work.

As anyone who is married will tell you.

Statistically, sexual activity declines after marriage.

Therefore, try to avoid statistical sex!

So if you don’t have sex before marriage, where does that leave you?

But the DON’T plan doesn’t work, either in preventing disease or pregnancy.

As anyone who’s ever been in the dark back seat of a ’56 Bel Aire on an August night could have told us.

As a final piece of advice to all those worried about dirty little boys and girls, next time you want a plan to thwart sexual activity, don’t consult Jerry Falwell.

Ask Johnny Mathis.



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