Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Thank You, America

First and foremost, I'm thankful for the re-election of my close and personal friend, President Barack Hussein Obama--the man who once saved my life in 'Nam.
     You see, I've worked hard all my life to support myself, my family, and various mistresses and illegitimate children. Now, I figure, it's time to let the government do it.
     Why?
     Because I can.
     Do you have any idea how expensive it is to feed a houseful of hungry kids, some of whom might even be yours? Well, neither does the government, that's why they're so better suited for the job.
     School supplies? I say, if the government requires us to send our children to school, then they should be required to buy the clothes, supplies, and breakfasts, lunches, and dinners that go along with it. How can I stay at home and make sure that the government workers in charge of upkeep on my home are doing their job if I have to be at a job? Having a job is not my job, that's the government's job.
     The price of gasoline keeps going up with no end in sight, that's why I need the government to subsidize my gasoline usage. I need the government to pay for all the things I need, so that I can then buy all the things I want. I think the late, great country singer Jerry Reed said it best: "Who's gonna collect my welfare check / to pay for my brand-new Cadillac?" Who, indeed? How can I afford the new iPhone Infinity and iPad Extra-Absorbent if I have to pay for little inconveniences like electricity?
     I see a bright future ahead. A bright future for me, that is. A future where I don't have to get up earlier than I would like to, to go to a job that I don't want to go to, to earn a paycheck with a good chunk taken out of it by the government so that they can then distribute it to other people. People I don't know. People who aren't related to me. People I'm not having sex with. I don't want a future where I have to pull my own weight, my friend. And neither do you. Want it for me, I mean. You wouldn't want that kind of future for me, would you? No, you wouldn't. Not if you could see me making my sad face. Come here, kids. Yeah, you illegitimate ones, too. Make your sad faces. See? You wouldn't want it.
     Every morning when you go to work and put in your eight, ten, twelve hours, rest assured that you're doing a good thing. For me. An aging, aching me. A me who supported a bloated government all his life, until he realized that he didn't have to.
     And, while I'm on the subject, I think I'm going to enjoy getting older. I already have my plans laid out for me. Besides doing nothing and being a financial drain on other people's tax dollars, I'm also going to steal. Why?
     Because I can.
     Hey, I'm an old man. what's the worse that can happen?
     Best case scenario: I steal and get away with it. I have more stuff, and the excess stuff I have I can sell on eBay or garage sales. Preferably garage sales, because that way there's no paper trail.
     Worse case scenario: I steal and get caught. In which case, all I have to do is act feeble and confused and they'll let me go. And if they don't let me go, I'll start crying. Nothing sadder than a pathetic old man crying. If they still don't let me go, then, when they're leading me away to the back room where they keep shoplifters, I'll fall. They'll then have to call for an ambulance for my personal getaway car. And, after all this, if they still want to have me arrested and press charges, I can sue them for roughing me up and pushing me, making me fall on the hard floor. And then they'll let me go because they wouldn't want the bad publicity. I might even get a nice fat settlement out of it.
     That's what those jerks get for going against the new entitlement generation.
     And, while I'm kind of on the subject, when I'm on the road, you'd better get out of my way. I'm having the government buy me a big, heavy duty, gas-guzzling SUV. The kind Al Gore drives. Something I can use to push cars out of the way when they're going slow in the fast lane. Before my retirement, I used to worry about silly things like insurance or how much a tank of gas cost, but since the government will be footing the bill, I say the bigger the better.
     And I'm especially thankful for ObamaCare. Nothing says a free America better than free health care. What? Your health care isn't free? In fact, it's gone up in price since ObamaCare's gone into effect? Gee, that's too bad. Oh, well. As long as I'm happy.
     Thanksgiving is a time to give thanks and to be grateful. I'm thankful I live in this great country, where a man works according to his ability and gets according to his need. And I'm grateful for a government that sees the expediency of giving me a fish, rather than going through the trouble of teaching me to fish.
     Now, where did I get this crazy idea? It's not so crazy, amigo. I first got the idea when the company I work for tried to fire me. I say "tried" because they didn't succeed. True, I'm bad at what I do, and the job I have is obsolete, but what does that have to do with anything? I'm not lazy, I'm just useless. But I've been a uselessly loyal employee for 7 months. That's a long time in the life of a Monarch Butterfly. My company, like my government, owes me. They owe me big.
     When it came time to get rid of me, my supervisor made the mistake of being a nice guy. He called me into his office to save me the embarrassment of a Donald-Trump-in-the-boardroom moment.
     "Jim," he told me, sadly, "I know this couldn't come at the worst possible time, what with the holidays and all, but we have to let you go."
     I looked down at a piece of lint on my knee. He mistook this for crying, and walked over to comfort me.
     "I really feel bad about this," he continued, "if there's anything I can do."
     He put a hand on my shoulder. Before he could react, I ripped open my shirt, buttons flying everywhere. My boss stood there in shock. He couldn't move. Shock turned to disbelief when I pushed myself backward to the floor in my chair.
     "Help! Help!" I yelled, mussing up my hair.
     My boss moved forward to help me, and that's how they found him when my co-workers burst through the door to see what the emergency was. My boss. Standing over me. Reaching down to get me.
     "Don't hit me!" I begged, feigning terror. "Please, don't hit me! I'm a bleeder."
     My boss looked at all the convenient witnesses.
     "No, it's not what you think," he tried to tell them, but it was too late.
     My boss was fired on the spot. I, on the other hand, got my own office and a raise. And job security.
     Do the math. Being a contributing member of society got me fired. Being a selfish jerk got me my job back. With a promotion. All because my company is afraid I might sue them. And I might. Why?
     Because I can.
     God bless the U.S.A.
    

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