Proud American Magazine Asks: How Do You Feel About Universal Health Care?

Well sir, let me tell you. As the proprietor of the most successful flag warehouse in northern Florida -- off route 10, right next to the world's largest adult bookstore billboard -- I can safely say that I've never felt such shame for my esteemed industry. All this universal flim-flam business has been making people a bunch of Greedy Guses -- take one of our line workers, for instance. Wanted to take the afternoon off to "have her baby." I said baloney to that and slid a baking pan under her legs. Before we shut down for the day, that little tyke was sitting in a puddle of amniotic fluid, just as happy as can be. Unfortunately, I had to fire Linda because she forgot to clock out for her lunch break earlier that day.

This is the America I want to live in. Universal health care? No thanks, President NO-BRAIN-A!

If we switched to this universal hooey, I'm sure some government fatcat would have put the kibosh on my fourth hip replacement and triple bypass surgery. Thank God programs like the VA and Medicare exist to help us WWI vets live healthy, natural lives. I'm 112 years old but I feel like a bedridden spring chicken!

Universal health care? Go suck a lemon, Bobanga.

My boss of the Applebee's tells me I am to speak to no one of "rights." They allow me to keep the spare change found on the floor and eat the remnants of what is called a "surfing turf" burger. This is fine for me, as I have had not much appetite since the stomach pains. Beth the waitress gave me some 7-UP and crackers but still the pain continues. Maybe I am not working hard enough.

Oh yes, I was told to say our President should go back to Kentucky. Is this correct?

Hands off my healthcare, O-Bunghole!

You'd think a formerly successful gentleman like myself would feel compassion for the plight of the poor, but I believe in a little something called The American Dream. In what other country could a small boy from the suburbs achieve the lofty goal of becoming floor manager at a Circuit City? Even though I made upwards of 22,000 a year, I always remembered the hard work that got me to such an envious place. And I'll have you know that I'll soon be landing a position at a successful chain of dollar stores owned by my uncle. Head cashier? Yeah. I think I can handle that.

C'mon poor people. Take some responsibility for yourselves.

Thanks to capitalism and the free market, I was able to give my wife a lobotomy that I'm sure would have been frowned upon by Big Brother Obama and his Empathy Gestapo. My sweet Beth is happier than ever now that she doesn't have to waste her entire day nagging me to do things around the house. Her life is now a pleasant existence of sitting, smiling, watching TV, and repeating things she's heard on the TV.

"No soup for you!"

See? I can't understand a damn thing she says. It's wonderful.

Listen fucko, my grandfather did not get out of fighting in World War II thanks to a unicycle injury just so some liberal Nazi socialist elitist Moslem could take away everything that other people fought so hard for. Now leave me the hell alone, and try not to trip over that big pile of guns on your way out.

Aid the sick and needy? Not in my country, Bling-Blong-O.

I send my insurance company $600 a month and in exchange they allow me to stay alive. I am still alive so the system works.

I was doubled over a booth and slightly blind from my stomach pains when my boss Russell comes over and says, "Hey Apu, if you've got time to lean, you've got time to clean." I thanked him for putting a positive spin on a negative situation. I have noticed you Americans are good at this.

COWABUNGA!

Abe Lincoln? Didn't play ball. James Garfield? Didn't play ball. William McKinley? Didn't play ball. JFK? Didn't play ball.

Now that Obama's playing ball, he may live to see his 50th birthday. We here at the insurance industry wish him the best.

Universal health care? More like Pooniversal Schmelthcare, President Flim-Flamma!

KUNAL PATEL
1974-2009
DIED OF A PREVENTABLE ILLNESS
AND EXPOSURE TO PREACHY COMEDY ARTICLES