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Do NOT Be Afraid!!! You�re an American, Dammit!!!
Welcome back folks to another �The Message from The Unc�. Where this week we ask the provocative question: Exactly when did we get so goddamn afraid and completely overprotective?
Let�s deal with the afraid piece first, shall we? OK, there�s a sniper running loose in the D.C. area. And, now you got people down there afraid to go get gas in their cars! Glued to the TV! Surfing the Net for reports as to when the cops are going to catch this sick, twisted, piece of inhumane garbage. I got news folks: the cops don�t have a clue. Did you see Chief �Bull Squat� Moose on the tube yesterday? Crying and saying it�s personal? Where the hell are you coming from, chief? Dunkin� Donuts?! Wipe that chocolate �clair stain off your uniform and drop and give me 20. How�s it personal, you dumb bastard? Did he shoot anyone in your family? I don�t think so, buttnut! Folks, the only way to get this guy is to arm yourself. Look, I�m not saying you gotta be like The Unc and toss an Uzi 9mm with laser sightings in your ghetto cruiser when you head to the Exxon to quench your big Detroit V8�s thirst for Premium (Note: You do have an American car don't you? What�s your last name, Yamma- Moto?!). People in the D.C. area gotta form a posse. Like the one in the old �Frankenstein� movie. You know, where the angry mob comes to the door with pitchforks and torches in their hand? You know they ain�t there for no barbecue now, is they? You get the picture. We gotta do it ourselves. Besides, I don�t know about you, but I always wanted to be part of an angry mob bent on swift and blinding violence. There�s just something poetic about it, don�t you think?
Now, let�s deal with how the hell we became so overprotective. Jesus Ice Hockey Christ! Now, their putting netting up above the glass behind the goals at NHL games to protect the fans. All because some little girl got struck with a puck last year at a Columbus Blue Jackets game. Naturally, Gary Bettman and his cronies completely overreacted. Know why? Because they don�t sit back there! Those are now obstructed view seats! Don�t tell me the netting is see-through! It�s not. Only a retard is going to believe that! Now, if you sit behind the goal a few rows up it�s like being on a goddamn butterfly hunt. Look, there goes a Monarch! Hey, I�m sorry the girl died. Really, I am. However, did you know she walked out of the seating area under her own power with an usher holding a towel to her head? That tells me the real story folks is one (or a combination) of the following: a.) The arena staff mistreated her in 1st aid; b.) EMTs screwed up her treatment on the way to the hospital; c.) Doctors at the hospital messed up; and/or, d.) The girl had a congenital defect that the puck launched into action. Had to be. I been hit by pucks. I�ve hit people with pucks. Far as I know, we�re all still alive. Nobody ever died at an NHL game before. Did anyone thinking of doing an autopsy? Hell no! Know why? Because they know The Unc would be right. And, every goddamn commie pinko, mealy mouth, bleeding heart, liberal SOB in this great country of ours doesn�t want to admit it when The Unc has driven the proverbial spike right through Dracula�s cold goddamn heart!
Now, we have to protect everyone. Kids wear helmets that look like goddamn overturned bedpans when they ride their bikes down the street. We put caps over our electrical outlets to make them �child proof�. I got big news folks: You�re screwing with the Law of Natural Selection. That law would�ve weeded out a lot of our dregs by now by say, falling off their bike and bashing their skulls against a curb until the gray matter spurted out and they expired. Well, now those nimrods are living to adulthood. And, they�re marrying. Really dumb dopes that long ago would�ve stuck their little fingers in a wall socket and got zapped with enough electricity to straighten out Elsa Lancaster�s hair in �The Bride of Frankenstein� (Note: Once again, don�t you just love how I work this crap in?), and died. Worse yet, their unholy alliance has produced devil�s spawn: their freaking kids.
You can�t escape it folks. The media will tell you there is danger everywhere. Hell, the NFL (See donkey dope, I finally worked in the football angle when you least expected it, didn�t I?), puts up netting to keep the balls from PATs and FGs from going into the stands. OK, I can MAYBE understand it in warm ups. But, in a game? Gimme a break! They�ll tell you it�s to stop fights in the stands. Bull. These tightwads don�t want you to have a free game ball. Besides, no one can tell me that seeing a few fans fighting over a football during the Lions/Vikes game last week wouldn�t be better than watching that slop on the field. I for one would love to see an English soccer-style riot here in the States at an NFL game. Maybe then one of these little dopes that should�ve assumed room temp years ago will fall from the second level of the Vet onto some other unsuspecting fool. But hey, we can only dream, eh?!
Here�s the bottom line: You�re an American. Start acting like it. We don�t give a crap. We don�t take any bull. We�re not in the crap business. Have some balls. Put your bright orange jumper on that you got at the county lockup, drive down to the local convenience store and say, �Hey, Mahawt Ma Gandhi! I need 10 bucks of Texas T. Premium on Pump 7. Now get on your goddamn cellphone and tell your towelhead, camel jockey, gas ass, sniper buddies I�m here and armed. It�s go time, you Nehru Jacketed jerkoff!�. You�ll be surprised how many other Americans you inspire by doing this.
Until next time�
The Unc