I think if a blue-haired activist can scream in the middle of a city square about the moral right to extinguish a healthy fetus for convenience, and some overweight patriot in wraparound shades can wave the American flag while shouting about his God-given right to carry an AR-15 two hours after a school shooting—then I sure as hell have the right to step into my own shit and publicly defend something that’s considered taboo, but nowhere near as morally repugnant as either of those circus acts.
Let’s stop pretending this has anything to do with public safety.
This is a racket. A government-sanctioned, corporate-backed, backroom handshake cartel that feeds itself off misery while wearing a badge that says justice. You want to know what DUI enforcement is? It’s a fucking business model. One of the most brilliant and sinister ones ever devised—because it hides behind morality. It hides behind dead families, crashed cars, and slurred apologies. But underneath all that blood-stained propaganda is the real currency: money.
Follow the cash. Cops get bonuses or political points for arrests. Tow yards have sweetheart deals with the city to snatch up your vehicle the second you’re cuffed. The lawyers? They’re licking their chops. A DUI case is a goddamn buffet for defense attorneys. $5,000 retainers just to show up and cut a plea deal. DUI classes, ignition interlock leases, court fees, reinstatement charges, probation monitoring. It’s a wet dream for bureaucrats and bottom-feeders.
And you—the guy who got popped at 0.07 after a night out after drinking one wine with your parents — you’re the average joem, the mark. You’re the cow they line up at the killing floor, drain dry, and send back out onto the street with your pants around your ankles.
Meanwhile, the bars stay open till 2 AM. Happy hours are encouraged. “Drink responsibly,” they whisper while pouring doubles. Where’s the breathalyzer at the exit of your local sports bar? Where’s the mandatory Uber kiosk? Not there. Because that would be bad for business. Because no one’s going after the suppliers. They’re only hunting the consumers.
They don’t want to stop drunk driving. They can’t afford to.
If they actually gave a shit about stopping DUIs—if they really, truly cared about saving lives—they’d stop playing this rigged morality game and do something that actually works.
But they don’t. Because it’s not about safety. It’s about profit.
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If saving lives was the priority—if any of this DUI theater was actually about public safety—they’d pass a goddamn law right now that hits where it hurts: the liquor license holders.
Make it simple: any establishment with a liquor license is legally limited to serving no more than two alcoholic drinks per customer per day. That’s it. Two. You want more? Go home. Drink in private. But if you’re out in public, at a bar or restaurant—two drinks, max.
And here’s the kicker—if someone gets a DUI after drinking at your place, you’re liable. Civilly. Financially. Criminally. You served them, you’re responsible. Just like a gun shop selling to a felon. Just like a pharmacist handing out pills with no prescription. You don’t get to pour six craft beers, hand them car keys, and then pretend your hands are clean.
No more hiding behind tipsy disclaimers and “drink responsibly” napkins. No more bartenders looking the other way while patrons slur their way through round five. No more restaurants pushing drink specials like it’s fucking Disneyland.
You over-serve? You’re accountable.
Because let’s stop pretending this isn’t about profit. Bars make their money on overpour. Not on safety. Not on moderation. They’re not therapists—they’re pushers with neon signs. There’s cash in the third round. There’s blood in the fourth.
Two drinks per person. Per day. Enforced by law. Tied to your liquor license. Tied to your insurance. Tied to your bank account.
If that law existed—if there were actual consequences for the sellers, not just the consumers—you’d see DUI numbers plummet overnight.
But they won’t pass it. You know why?
Because this whole system is built on the wreckage. They need the crashes. The arrests. The court fees. The rehab programs. The interlock devices. The probation. The parole. The paycheck.
It’s never been about saving lives. It’s always been about making money off the bodies.
And these cars? All this high-tech green horseshit—lane assist, automatic braking, Apple CarPlay—but not a single breathalyzer standard. Not one. They’ll put cameras on your bumper and sensors in your seat, but they won’t install a $50 device that could save thousands of lives?
It’s simple. It’s effective. It’s real. And it’d cut DUI deaths by 95% overnight.
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Let’s not forget just how fucking great America is, right?
Land of the free, home of the broke, burned-out, overworked and emotionally bankrupt. The American Dream didn’t die—it overdosed on overtime and got buried under a pile of credit card debt and unpaid medical bills.
So yeah, maybe that guy at the bar isn’t just there to “cut loose” or “have fun.” Maybe he’s just trying to numb the screaming in his chest. Because he can’t afford a vacation. He can’t afford therapy. But he can afford a drink. A stiff one. Two-for-one margaritas at Chili’s. That’s the real antidepressant in this country.
And what does the system say? Take responsibility. Own your choices. It’s all on you.
Right. Just like Nancy Reagan wanted. Just say no, even if everything in your life is collapsing and the drink is the only thing that makes the noise stop for five fucking minutes. That’s the game, right? Separate the herd. Isolate the addict. Turn him into the villain.
That way, when the DUI hits, you can demonize the man behind the wheel—“That guy’s a monster, he’s reckless, he’s dangerous.” But don’t you dare mention that he spent the last three hours at Chili’s drinking corporate-engineered frozen poison, served by a 22-year-old making $2.13 an hour and pushed by managers trying to meet quarterly alcohol sales goals.
Don’t blame the system. Blame the man. Blame him alone. Not the bar. Not the culture. Not the broken dream that left him there.
Because the system isn’t about safety. It’s about separation. Isolation. Control.
DUI guys are easy targets. Drag them into court, take their money, suspend their license, fit them with a breathalyzer like a leash around their neck—and pretend we solved something.
Meanwhile, Chili’s pours another round. The server smiles. The bartender says, You sure you don’t want one more? And the whole country just keeps drinking itself into silence.
It’s not a crime to be drunk in America.
It’s just a crime to get caught.
