Floridian Economy (Part 1)

In case you happen to be out the loop, I just so happen to be an expert on Floridian economy. I have a certificate somewhere. It’s with my degree in Being Awesome and my C++ certification. I have had my picture taken with some of the state’s greatest public figures like Dan Marino, Jeb Bush and Tony Blair. Hanging on my wall is the hundredth alligator that I wrestled a baby from its mouth. Ever since I received the key to the state some months ago, I felt that I should tell people about the economy of the great state in which I used to reside. Florida: The First Baptist State.

Now, everyone knows what Florida exports: Oranges, Everglades, and sunshine. All of the orange juice in the world is made from the fresh, dimply oranges grown here in Florida. As for the Everglades and sunshine, well, if you don’t know about their importance in Floridian economy you’re as lost as Jack Shephard. What’s more interesting, however, is the items Florida imports. For all the people who are unfortunate (read: lucky) enough not to live here, this might come as a surprise. Are you ready? Florida’s top three imports are old people, homelessness and shitty driving.

I know what you are thinking. “But Chad, we have to put all of our elderly somewhere.” Well guess what, we are getting kind of full. Furthermore, we are clearly not getting the prime elderly. While everyone else has a Golden Delicious or a McIntosh, Florida is getting those bruised typeless apples that are soft and squishy. To put it in economic terms, I estimate our elderly to have a market value of approximately $1.16 a pound as compared to the nation-wide average of $2.37 a pound. For example, here is your average grandmother.

Average Grandmother

Image courtesy of http://www.higginsfamily.com

She has some signs of age, but she still looks fun to be around. Who knows, maybe she’ll spoil you with candy and ice cream sundays when you come by her house as opposed to filling you with guilt trips about her new-found loneliness. It still remains, however, that your average grandmother is still tolerable. Hell, she has all sorts of money and a stack of birthday cards so people don’t send her away. Most people will even visit her every month, take their cheek-twisting, and turn the other one.

Now, here is your average grandmother from Los Angeles.

Los Angeles Grandmother

Image courtesy of http://www.nickdenton.org/blogallery/Rupaul.jpg

Sure she may look young, and sure she may look like a woman, but your average grandmother in LA is a 47 year old man with a short stint in Hollywood. Hell, grandpa still doesn’t know and she may still very well be a waitress while hoping for her acting career to blossom. We don’t get very many grandmothers from LA simply because no one knows to send them over.

Moving on, let’s examine the grandmother’s from Alabama.

Alabaman Grandmother

Image courtesy of http://warmonger.mu.nu/archives/cat_patriotic_pictures.php

She may be your sister. She may be your cousin. She may be your neighbor. None of this, however, discounts her from being your grandmother in Alabama. Unlike other civilizations, the Alabama family tends to stick together. Closely. I tried to map the map the average Alabamian… Alabamanesian… Alabamamian… Alabaman family tree but the math was too confusing. You can only draw so many branches before you feel you need a trim. Science tells us the reason that the average Alabaman family is because they follow the saying, “Old enough to pee, good enough for me,” when selecting a partner.

So what do we get? What kind of elderly is flocking to Florida? What sort of grandmother is put on that plane or train and “treated” to the Florida sun?

Floridian Grandmother

Image courtesy of http://www.cs.usm.edu/~bisland/teststuff.shtml

This is a Floridian grandmother. This thing is cruelty to children. Our sons and daughters actually have to witness this kind of thing on a daily basis. It’s terrible. They hobble for miles down the road with their wretched walkers. Grocery stores shudder at the sight of Grandma Ogre here. She’s extra wrinkly, extra misshapen, and extra cranky. Her family has condemned her to Florida. Now, her only fun in life is to scare little children and cut coupons. The longer she holds up the line, the happier she feels. If you don’t live in Florida, never before have you seen a box of evaporated milk take an hour to purchase. I’m pretty sure Stephen King has written something about this in one of his many trash horror novels. And yet, somehow they are less obnoxious than the homeless people.


2 Responses to “Floridian Economy (Part 1)”

  1. i like the grandpa with the boobies.

    hess HAWT.
    thats what kinda men i go for.

  2. hahahaha…so true

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