Post Office Good, DMV BAD

Life can be so expensive. Sometimes it doesn't even seem like it's worth it. I hate how bills just keep piling up for stuff that doesn't really exist. Like minutes. Or liability. Interest. I love being able to call people. I hate that my cell phone company has crappy coverage. I could be in the middle of a city and only get one bar. It sounds like one of those stupid T-mobile commercials, but I bet those bastards have coverage problems too. Registering my car. What exactly IS registration, anyway? Another thing you have to pay for that they don't worry about until you get pulled over and then you're toast. And if your address changes, you're out of luck. The DMV can track every single ticket you've ever had, find out your mother's maiden name, where you were born, all the people you've slept with, everyone you've ever voted for, and your high school GPA. What they can't do is figure out what a forwarding address is. Idiots. They also have a hard time figuring out how to pick up the phone, but that's another story.
Why are these things so expensive??? I can eat at a fancy restaurant easier than I can pay car registration. And I actually get something for my money in the restaurant. I even pay a hefty sum for some mysterious airborne internet connection. And it works with the dependability and speed of Paris Hilton. It's beginning to seem like the best mode of communication is actually the post office. At least my mail gets there. I don't even have to pay extra to send a postcard during peak hours. And I don't have to be a registered correspondent in order to send mail. They'll do it for anyone for the low low price of 37 cents. All they ask is for a zip code plus four. I don't even do THAT and they still deliver my mail. What a swell bunch. How dedicated. How selfless. Actually I think the post office might be one of the only government agencies that actually does what they say they do. How refreshing. I wish more "service providers" could follow the credo: Not snow, nor sleet, nor dark of night will keep them from delivering their rounds (or something like that). The only group that seems to be as dedicated are meter maids, and I wish they operated more like the DMV. Those fuckers gave me a parking ticket ON MY BIRTHDAY. Yet another "thing" that I have to pay for that isn't even a thing. It's just paint on a curb. It's not like I was blocking a fire hydrant or something. The back of my car was just hanging in a little bit of red, and only because the jackass in front of me didn't bother to pull up. And in the off-chance the driver of that white 2-door Acura is reading this, you're lucky I didn't give your bumper a nice parting gift. I really wanted to. Asshole.