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How America Works

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Let's see if I understand how America works lately . . .

If a woman burns her thighs on the hot coffee she was holding in her
lap while driving, she blames
the restaurant.

If your teen-age son kills himself, you blame the rock 'n' roll music
or musician he liked.

If you smoke three packs a day for 40 years and die of lung cancer,
your family blames the
tobacco company.


If your daughter gets pregnant by the football captain you blame the
school for poor sex
education.

If your neighbor crashes into a tree while driving home drunk, you
blame the bartender.


If your cousin gets AIDS because the needle he used to shoot up with
heroin was dirty, you
blame the government for not providing clean ones.

If your grandchildren are brats without manners, you blame television.

If your friend is shot by a deranged madman, you blame the gun
manufacturer.

And if a crazed person breaks into the cockpit and tries to kill the
pilots at 35,000 feet, and the
passengers kill him instead, the mother of the deceased blames the
airline.

I must have lived too long to understand the world as it is anymore. So
if I die while my old,
wrinkled ass is parked in front of this computer, I want you to blame
Bill Gates, OK?

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