Insatiable Uncle Sam Creosote Maws Cigars - Granite Grok

Insatiable Uncle Sam Creosote Maws Cigars

creosoteIndicating reason number 4,235,153 that the government is too big: They’re going after cigars!!! Cigars! What the hell is wrong with these people? Shut it down. Shut it all down!  The Federal Government is incapable of doing what it’s already seized responsibility for, so what do they do?  Grab more!!  The rapacious insatiable bastards.

I can’t stand these people. And by people, using the term loosely here, I mean Progressives.  (Yes, I’m implying that Leviathan is infected with the parasitical organisms). Progressives are mentally defective control freaks. That’s really all there is to it. There’s something twisted and gnarled in their gray matter that makes them insufferable busy-bodies that just cannot leave people alone. They’re incurable. They see something they don’t like and in their drunk on self-regard arrogance slur to themselves, “I’ll fix it!!” Then proceed to make what wasn’t a problem a problem, or what was a small problem, large. Worse yet:

Nobody’s asking for their M***** F****** help!  Mind your own damned business.

They just can’t help shoveling more and more of life into the fetid maw of the Federal Government.  And the Government just keeps gorging on more and more and evacuating the previously swallowed.

It’s the Monty Python Mr. Creosote skit in The Meaning of Life writ large.

In this skit, Mr. Creosote, an obese monstrosity of a man, waddles into a restaurant where he’s greeted by a waiter who proceeds to read him items from the menu during which Mr. Creosote repeatedly vomits.  Creosote then replies that he’ll take the entire menu.  The skit forwards to later in the evening with Creosote’s face stuffed with asparagus, his body much larger than when he arrived. It is at this point when the waiter comes over and offers a final thin mint.  Creosote protests; he’s stuffed. The waiter urges, but Creosote rebuffs again, but is waning. The waiter insists, “It’s just a wafer. It’s wafer thin.” Mr. Creosote acquiesces and the waiter places the wafer on Creosote’s tongue and then sprints for cover.

Mr. Creosote begins to expand larger and larger and larger, finally exploding. His chest bursts open, spewing chunky brown streams splashing onto patrons and spraying the walls.  It’s truly disgusting.

Which is why it’s the perfect illustration of our Government and progressives in action.  The exploding man is the Federal Government taking on more and more and more, gulping it down, swelling grotesquely and pungently obese. All the while the Progressive keeps bringing on the delights.  And with each new bite the Government can’t handle its totality, so it evacuates the already decayed and rotten contents orally.

Progressive Waiter: Care to get Government involved in who can use a bathroom? It’s a wafer thin.

Bloated Government vomits the VA and let’s veteran’s die on wait lists and then covers it up systematically.

Progressive Waiter: How about banning, scary looking, evil guns. They’re black, you know. Sounds scrumptious, doesn’t it? Here you go.

Bloated Government vomits 2000 weapons to Mexican cartels many of which end up used in crimes, including the death of an American Border Patrol Agent.

Progressive Waiter: How about the EPA involves itself in regulating, well, everything?  Private property, private ponds, and gutters?  It’s truly delish.

Bloated Government vomits The EPA, spilling poison water down the pristine Colorado River…

Progressive Waiter: How about a cigar regulation to perfectly complement your bloat?

On and on and on.

Nauseating.

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