I must be getting old. Geez. Woke up this morning to discover my very first hemorr- ahh, I can’t spell that, and I’m too lazy to look it up. That thing they talk about in the Preparation H commercials. Depressing. But then I thought, Hmmmmm, I’ve never seen one of those before. I wonder what one looks like. With a couple of hand mirrors and some contorting, I caught a glimpse and was shocked. So shocked I dropped one of the mirrors. It shattered on the tile. (An omen of seven years bad luck. I’m guessing 4 more years of Obama and then 3 of President Joe, only to finally have his administration cut short when he accidentally eats the big boy paste instead of the non-tox stuff. Hmmm. I wonder who switched the jars? Asking ‘Who benefits?’ won’t help. Doesn’t narrow it down at all, but I digress).
Anyway, I was shocked at the sight in the mirror! Flabbergasted! Incredulous! It looked just like President Obama sweetly staring back at me, ears and all. His head wasn’t in his own butt after all. I could feel his love. It was a sign, and my soul was soothed by the sounds of what appeared to be a celestial choir singing to me*, Peace be unto you. It will be alright because: Obamacare.
He is the One. Coming to an unpleasant malady near you. Look for him in malignant tumors, festering abscesses, oozing pustules, weeping sores and in upcoming servings of tortilla, watermelon, fried chicken and organic arugula.
*Alliteration. Another sign of superior literature.
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