How to holiday greet your liberal/progressive friends~
Please accept my best wishes for:
- an environmentally conscious
- socially responsible
- celebration of the winter solstice
- practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion or secular practices of your choice.
Merry Christmas. Happy New Year!
I offer three fables to give you a chuckle or two. Enjoy!
Pelosi gave to me . . .
A healthcare “gift” for my dear fa-mil-y.
“Keep your doctor and your healthcare? Yes you can! Yes-sir-ee!”
my mailman brought to me . . .
A can-cell-a-tion of my healthcare po-li-cy.
the website said to me . . .
Closed for repairs.
Will be fixed soon, we almost guar-an-tee!
On the fifth day of Obamacare,
a navigator promised me . . .
“Tell me all and do not fret,
your info’s safe as it can be!”
On the sixth day of Obamacare,
TheBlaze emailed to me . . .
“Stop! Stop! Don’t sign up yet.
The site has NO se-cur-i-ty.”
my banker said to me . . .
“Thieves stole your cash,
and credit cards.
and your i-den-ti-ty.”
the Tea-Party tweeted me . . .
Eight million folks dumped off their plans
are mad as they can be.
“Thanks to healthcare pol-i-cy,
you’re now a part-time em-ploy-ee.”
On the tenth day of Obamacare,
Abe’s ghost spoke to me . . .
“When gov’ment owns your healthcare, they own you too, you see.”
Liberals said to me . . .
“Didn’t read it.
Voted for it.
We took gift$ and bri-ber-y.”
A boost of cheer and “keep the faith,
we’ll send ‘um home, you’ll see.
Together we will start anew
to save our country’s li-ber-ty.”
Once upon a time, three brothers, Manny, Moe, and Jack McSwine, moved into a forest where they built unique homes using EPA-approved, ecologically-friendly materials.
One fine day, an overweight-and-out-of-shape government worker rap, rap, rapped on the door of Manny’s straw house. Manny opened the door.
The worker said, “Good day Mr. McSwine. I’m Rupert Wolfsbane, your Healthcare Navigator, and I have a gift for you from the most powerful person in America.”
Manny asked, “Valerie Jarrett has a present for me?”
Rupert Wolfsbane looked confused. “Um . . . no sir. Not her, but Hillary . . . no. . . Biden. No, I mean Obama . . . President Obama. He wants you to give you free healthcare. It’s as easy as one-two-three. First, I’ll need your bank account numbers. Then, your social security number. And, I’ll help you adjust your application so you qualify for the best deal and won’t have to pay anything for healthcare. It’ll only take a few minutes. Then I’ll be on my way.”
Rupert Wolfsbane puffed out his chest. “Sir, I’m a Certified Healthcare Navigator. No matter what the Republicans say about us, we have undergone 20 intensive hours of training. I know how to protect your information. I know how to guide you through the application process to ensure you receive favorable premiums and a high subsidy. This will only take a few minutes. Now, your social security number is?”
Manny stepped back inside his straw house. “Not interested. I like my healthcare. I’m keeping my healthcare. Period. I like my doctor. I’m keeping my doctor. Period. I’m too busy trimming the hairs on my chinny, chin, chin to stand here and chit-chat with you. Have a nice day.” He closed the door.
Rupert Wolfsbane knock, knock, KNOCKED on the door.
Manny shouted from inside the house. “You want my personal information, ask NSA. Go away.”
Rupert Wolfsbane tried one more time. “If you don’t open the door and let me come in, I’m authorized to huff and puff and blow your door in.”
Rupert Wolfsbane sucked air, then huffed and puffed for 10 seconds. The exertion caused him to feel light headed. He toppled against the door, and WHOOSH! collapsed the straw house.
Manny dug his way out of the straw and ran through the woods to Moe’s house.
Rupert Wolfsbane huffed and puffed and ran after him.
He shouted, “Wait up, Mr. McSwine. You gotta help me hit my subsidy quota.”
Manny ran inside Moe’s house made of twigs and locked the door.
Rupert Wolfsbane tap, tap, tapped on the door. “Sir, I have a packet of recent disclosures that will change this country and your life and . . . please let me come in.”
Moe shouted through the door.” Wow! You got Obama’s college transcripts, passport history, and birth certificate?”
Rupert Wolfsbane looked puzzled. “Um . . . no sir. I meant information and the application that will help you get . . . um . . . free healthcare. Plus, I got food coupons for you when you sign up.”
“My brother and I don’t want your crummy government run healthcare or your free food, and we don’t do fraud. Now beat it!”
Rupert Wolfsbane insisted, “Sirs, if you don’t open the door and let me come in, I’m authorized to huff and puff and blow your door in.”
Moe laughed. “Not by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin. But you go right ahead. Huff and puff to your heart’s content. Knock yourself out.” (An unfortunate choice of words.)
Rupert Wolfsbane sucked in air, huffed and puffed for 10 seconds, became light headed again, lost his balance, grabbed onto a support twig, and pulled the entire house down with him as he fainted.
Manny and Moe crawled out from under the wreckage and raced through the woods to Jack’s brick house.
Rupert Wolfsbane regained his footing and shouted, “Hey, c’mon guys, gimme a break. Sign up for healthcare and I’ll leave you alone.”
He struggled to his feet and followed them.
Manny and Moe ran inside the brick house where Jack stood at the fireplace, stirring a large bubbling pot of turnip and truffle soup.
(And yes, you know where this story is heading.)
Huffing and puffing, Rupert Wolfsbane staggered up to Jacks’ front door.
“Knock, knock, KNOCK! Open the door and let me come in. Now that Mr. McSwine One and Mr. McSwine Two are homeless (sorry about that), you both can sign up to receive welfare, food stamps, subsidized housing, AND free healthcare. Please, let me help you.”
“Oh, what the bleep . . . I give up. No more Mr. Nice Guy.” Rupert Wolfsbane threw himself, headfirst, at the door . . . and bounced off it.
Dazed, he sprawled on the ground. As his vision cleared, he gazed skyward and observed a large chimney. He clawed his way up and onto the roof. Still a bit woozy after his collision with the door, Rupert Wolfsbane shouted down the chimney, “All you gotta’ do is mis-speak about your income, give me your personal information. How easy it that? I’ll even throw in a 103-inch-flat-screen TV that I picked up when it fell off a truck on the New Jersey turnpike.”
No response. Rupert Wolfsbane leaned in just a little bit more and . . . “Whoops!”
That evening, Manny, Moe, and Jack enjoyed a sumptuous turnip, truffle, and wolf meat stew. For after-dinner entertainment, they used Rupert Wolfsbane’s Obamaphone to prank call the President, Valerie Jarrett, Joe Biden and 60 democrat senators who had voted for Obamacare.
Everybody (except Rupert) lived happily ever after, especially the president who received a hand-crafted, wolf-skin smoking jacket from Santa. Just the ticket to keep him toasty warm during late-night foreign policy planning sessions with Valerie.
Read the full story of “the prince” which is Chapter Six of my “Politically Incorrect Book of Fables.” This fable is the “Sneak Peek” chapter at grannyguerrilla.com. Click on the PDF file to read the entire fable.
all of those whom you love and cherish!
- The Little Obama Train That Couldn’t – A new Politically Incorrect Fable (papundits.wordpress.com)
- Is Your Doctor Happy, Happy, Happy With Obamacare? (papundits.wordpress.com)
- Ole’ John Kerry Gives Away the Farm, E-I-E-I-O! (papundits.wordpress.com)
- The 12 Days Of Obamacare … (youviewed.com)