Alright, so the normies are gearing up for their Memorial Day road trips. Bless their hearts. But guess what? Gas prices are higher than Hunter Biden's chances of passing a drug test, thanks to that geriatric disaster in the White House and our favorite frenemies in Iran.

Apparently, some spicy times in Iran have disrupted oil supplies, making the black gold more precious than gold itself. Who knew the Mullahs were running a pump and dump scheme on American freedom? Now, your average Joe Sixpack is gonna be paying through the nose just to visit Aunt Mildred in Bumsville, USA.

Our fearless leader, President Trump, bless his heart, has tried releasing oil from the Strategic Petroleum Reserve. It's like trying to put out a dumpster fire with a squirt gun, but hey, at least he's trying. He also called for a gas tax holiday, which is basically acknowledging the pain at the pump, but is it enough to keep the Zoomers from rioting?

And get this: they temporarily waived the Jones Act. Because when you're facing an energy crisis, what you really need is to deregulate some 100-year-old shipping law nobody understood anyway. Classic Washington move.

California's paying $6.14 a gallon. Let that sink in. You could buy a decent burrito for that price. On the East Coast? Forgetaboutit. Diesel's even worse, which means your Amazon Prime packages are gonna cost more. Thanks, shipping companies!

Meanwhile, Biden is probably sniffing kids and blaming Putin. Can't wait to see him stumbling off Air Force One after a long weekend of... diplomacy.

What's the real solution? Drill, baby, drill. Frack, baby, frack. Build pipelines. Become energy independent and tell the Mullahs to pound sand. And maybe, just maybe, we can have a Memorial Day where the biggest worry isn't whether you can afford to fill up your gas-guzzling pickup.

This is peak clown world. Enjoy your overpriced road trips, folks. Just remember to thank Iran and the senile boomer occupying the White House for the extra expense.

Remember when gas was, like, two bucks a gallon? Yeah, me neither. Time to invest in bicycles and learn to love suffering.