George Orwell was here

I hab a bery 'tuffy node.

Perhaps Obama and the WHO will diagnose me with Swine flu, or bird flu, or monkey fever. Ebola?
"Obama and the WHO" sounds like a rock-n-roll band, which should bring a smile to our esteemed president's face. He digs publicity. Quick! Someone call a press conference!
Why is the new Pandemic called "swine" flu? Let's get "save the swine" tee shirts. Or they could say, "Pigs make me sick."
Why does the news make it sound like a reason to panic? Maybe it is, and I just don't understand. Don't lots of people worldwide get one kind of the flu, or another, all the time? What about all those folks dying from abortion? Is that a pandemic? Oh, don't get me started.
Apparently this sneeze has put me in a feisty sort of mood.
Who wants to talk politics?
I have a new access to Television, because it surrounds my gym experience, and so I have to see Obama on there every flipping day. That silly man wants me to believe that the whole world is at odds, and he's here to put it to rights. OH, puh-lease. I guess that I would be labeled a danger to society for saying that Obama is not, in fact the Messiah. There it is.
Now I've declared myself, I'll probably end up on a list of "undesireables."
We could have a tea party, though, and that would be nice. Just don't sneeze on my crumpets.
Do pigs like NyQuil? It's a controlled substance, you know. Big Brother needs to see your I.D. before he'll let you buy it.