Like any red-blooded American, I’m a no-nonsense, straight shooter. So let me give you the truth, no strings attached: if you don’t unquestionably love this country—shouting its name from mountaintops and whispering sweet-nothings in its ear while you sensually caress its beautiful, shapely hips—then you ought to do us REAL patriots a favor and get the FUCK out!
Before you do, though, consider pitching in to cover the medical bills of a poor gent down on his luck, would ya?
I’ll tell you, when the foreman said that I need to keep operating the violently shaking, fire-prone asphalt saw or they’d find somebody else who will, I thought to myself, now THAT’S America: no coddling, just pushing people to achieve their OSHA-defying best at a generous laborer’s rate of $10 an hour. And frankly, if you can’t appreciate that, well, I’d be mighty happy to help YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASS pack your bags for whatever socialist haven deserves you.
Mind you, nothing too heavy now: I still haven’t gotten any feeling in my left arm, but your kind contribution will get me one step closer to that surgery the company couldn’t cover under their plan due to that clerical error claiming I only worked 29.5 hours a week! (By the way, a big shout out to my former boss Mr. Harrison for the ‘Get Well’ card and $10 Subway voucher)!
Anyway, what makes America God’s finest creation is the people, not some bullshit insurance scam for freeloaders. Like when that machine exploded, you know who picked me and my stray fingers up off the street? Not some pencil-pushing government stooge, but my FELLOW AMERICANS—the ones that survived, at least. The very same who replace the ice every week in the bag holding those fingers until I can afford to have them re-attached, which you can help me do with just a few simple clicks.
Thankfully I still have just enough strength to continue my Lyft runs. Like I say, get busy living or get busy dying—in this case from this infection gushing RED, WHITE, AND BLUE… and also a weird dark brown. If you’re ever in town, maybe I’ll give you a ride, though if I catch you bad-mouthing America, my boot will kindly have to ask your ass to get the FUCK out of the vehicle.
But once you hit the pavement, don’t forget to give me 5 stars, OK?