Plugger-induced identity crisis

Am I a Plugger because I get food stamps during the school year? Also, is Mrs. Chicken Lady Plugger so hard up, she must turn to cough syrup to get drunk? Also, WTF? How many lines of credit do these people manbeasts HAVE?! Judging by the ever-increasing patheticness of the downward spiral that is the Plugger Addiction Storyline, I predict that the next item on the Plugger agenda involves getting one of their grandkids to explain the interwebs to them so they can check out how to try this thing they've heard of called "identity fraud."

Pluggers. You know the drill.

Dear Gary Brookins and also contributor "Bill Fountain" whose family is constantly ripping him off: OKAY. Pluggers have drug problems. Strung-out Plugger wives and ungrateful Plugger children steal small bills from their poor blue-flannel-collared family patriarchs in order to feed their addictions. We GET IT. You can at least buy a nice energy drink with that remaining $3. Also, try using an ATM (they give out big, shiny Andrew Jacksons!*) and then hiding your money somewhere no Plugger would ever find it. Like in the vegetable crisper.** Love, Everybody SEE: All previous Pluggers posts. *I just realized I have never written about America's Most Democratic President Except for Maybe Jefferson on this here blog. On the to-do list. **I just like that word, crisper. Crisper. Crisper. The initial k and the s-p consonant cluster really make the word itself sound crispy. All those voiceless consonants are crisp. KRRRISSSSP, I tell you! So much delightful aspiration. /linguistic nerdiness