I sent a package to Istanbul today. You know, for whenever we declare war on them. I just don’t want our troops to be sitting there and have to wait for weeks for packages from home to arrive.

This is because while the rest of you fain patriotism, I ooze it from all major orifices. That’s right you hippy-tree hugging socialists! I see you, waving the flag that you have stained with the artificial blood you picked up at your rally gear store.

You don’t have the guts to support freedom like I do. See the blood on my shirt? It’s real and possibly mine. I don’t even know because that is how patriotic I am.

My blood is red, my underwear is white and my corrective contact lenses make my eyes so freaking blue that France trembles at the mere thought of me looking to the East.

A lot of people in England hate me because my patriotism is so powerful it predates their existence. Take that constitutional monarchy!

My sweat beads form the likeness of Mount Rushmore on my t-shirt when I sweat and the statue of liberty is jealous of me.

I wear a gun at all times just to let the second amendment know that I support it to the fullest.

I have a beard like Abraham Lincoln and the honest quality of George Washington and a dash of Paul Revere.

You are not nearly the patriot I am. Put that in your historic and antique Meerschaum Pipe and smoke it. What was that? You don’t have one? And why am I not surprised?!