The markets are crashing again today, no big deal. It happens every couple of weeks now. Regular 300-point daily fluctuations? Pish posh. It provides an opportunity for traders and Wall Street insiders to take easy profits on the meaningless gyrations of the market at the expense of the average investor. Just another day. You have bigger things to worry about.

The stock market—forget it! Yes, its macroeconomic effects can end in you being booted out of a job through no fault of your own, but that could take weeks or months to shake itself out. In the meantime, you can't afford hay. Hay, motherfuckers. Hay. You can't afford a pile of dried out grass. You also can't afford to eat at restaurants that serve burritos priced at more than $3.99. If you had a good job, you'd be getting laid off. If you were old, you'd be selling drugs to pay for your medication. The college you thought was free is now going to charge you tuition. The Good Samaritans are being killed. Not enough of them to stop the population crisis, though.

It's bad enough that you're forced to live in the City of Compton. It's even worse that the City of Compton is in full financial meltdown. That shit is broke enough on a good day. Add on a $39 million municipal deficit? That Compton gentrification project is not looking too promising, friends. And now, everywhere you go, you have to be reminded that your world, your nation, your state, and your city—the City of Compton—are all broke. And we're always going to say "City of Compton" in that California Love hook way, like "City of Comp-ton!" Half singing it, almost, in a sort of robot voice. That's probably the most annoying part of all, for you.

Except for the being broke part.