…we turn now to an overheard conversation on Wall Street…

Cock-knocker Executive #1: Can you believe this shit? A $500,000 salary cap! That fuckin’ Obama!

Cock-knocker Executive #2: Shhhh!

CE #1: I mean, what the hell can you do with $500,000?! Nothing! It’s a travesty! Obama’s a jerk!

CE #2: Shut up!

CE #1: What is your problem?

CE #2 (pointing upwards): He can hear you!

CE #1: Who can?

CE #2: President Obama!

CE #1: Oh, fuck off! No he can’t!

CE #2: Yes, he can!

CE #1: If he can hear me, maybe he can answer my question: What the hell can you do with a mere $500,000 a year?!

A burst of HEAT VISION lances from the clouds, melting the glass of the office windows and searing the finely carpeted floor. A MESSAGE is scorched into the flooring, flames dancing merrily. It reads: BUY A WHOLE LOT OF FUCKING RAMEN, YOU DILLWEED.

CE #2: See?!

CE #1: …I suppose I could do that.

* * * * *

In other words, Wall Street: Shut the fuck up.

I make less than $25,000 a year. If I spent NOTHING and that $25,000 was just frosting and could languish in big fat rolls of bills under my mattress it would take me TWENTY YEARS to make what you do in one with a salary cap!

So I hope, Wall Street, that you will forgive the fuck out of me if I do that really obnoxious rubbing-my-finger-and-thumb-together trick while rolling my eyes and saying “I’m playing a sad, sad song on the world’s smallest violin for you, you used enema bag.”

I could buy three houses, four cars and live for the rest of my life on the interest of what’s left over on one year of your new, “pathetically small” salary. And my wife and I are not the poorest people we know. I know people who would blow a hobo, gargle his spunk and then kill and eat the transient bum for your amusement if you offered them $500,000.

How DARE you assholes come to D.C., all weepy-eyed and snot-nosed, begging for money to fix the economy you broke and then whine when Daddy America says “Okay, but we demand you be somewhat responsible with this money.” “Aww, Daaaaaad,” you pule “…we were gonna get us a shiny new jet plane!”

Fuck you guys, seriously. I think Obama’s being nice. If I were president, you would have to deal with a salary cap of minimum wage with no overtime and a punch in the balls so hard you’d taste your own testicles for the rest of your life.

So thank your lucky stars I’m NOT the Commander-in-Chief. I’d be detailing entire squadrons of Marines to Ball Punching Duty. Or maybe I’d make it part of the infrastructure package and assign the task to some real rough and ready blue-collar guys from the auto plants. I’m sure they’d love to have some work that they’d enjoy.

I may run for president myself on that platform: Vote Miracleman in 2016! Get a job punching Wall Street whiners in the junk!

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go price campaign buttons.