You’re on your way to make an innocent trip to Beirut Souks because you need a new lease on life that only a pair of overpriced sneakers can provide. But what’s this? The road is blocked; there are cops and idiots in suits everywhere. There is a parliamentary session being held, but not just any parliamentary session, one that will extend the dictatorship another three long years. Hey parliament, why didn’t you give us a heads up so we could put on some romantic music? I happen to enjoy a little musical accompaniment while I get f*cked.

(Photo via Al-Akhbar)

So you sit in your car and wait like the true sheep that you’ve become until they decide to let you through. You fume at the thought of 128 rich white guys high-fiving each other over their latest successful stock investments while your car does that funny thing where it stops running.

Not only are they extending (for the second time) their own parliamentary term into 2017, they’re inconveniencing you while they do it. It’s like your rapist forcing you to pay for the condoms (if that’s too much: it’s like your murderer asking you to split the cost of the gun.) Either way, here are some things that are only slightly less aggravating than the Lebanese parliament.

(Photo via Blog Baladi)

1. Incurable diseases.
My incurable disease may be a pain in the ass, but at least it would give me closure and not randomly regenerate every four years. My disease will not block roads so it can drive to Starbucks at its own leisure. No, it won’t.

2. Catching Ebola.
At this point in my life, Ebola would truly serve a twofold purpose for me. First off, the trendy virus would possibly allow me to achieve my goal weight, which is approximately that of a seven-year old boy. Second of all, due to the high media exposure I would finally have my fifteen minutes of fame without having to pull a Kim Kardashian (AKA showing people my butthole.) What has the Lebanese parliament done for me that Ebola can’t? Nothing.

3. Being in a relationship with someone who confuses ‘your’ and ‘you’re'.
I’d want to stab him three times a day, but my beau would still be less aggravating than the Lebanese Parliament.

4. Dying.
Dying is definitely more comfortable than the Lebanese parliament at this point. With death comes certainty; with the Lebanese parliament comes…what’s a fancier word for garbage?

5. Being forced to sit in a room with all your ex-boyfriends.
Even if they sat there and detailed all the things they hated about you, even if they giggled and bonded over how weird you look while you sleep - yeah, I’d rather endure that than have this parliament.

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Well said. Sheeple still follow these garbage men and democracy has died.

Ryan Hamze on Nov 7, 2014 via web