Battle cry of the entitlement brigade.

"You're part of the problem!"

"Your sense of entitlement pisses me off!"

"You're not ENTITLED TO FOOD STAMPS! IT'S A KINDNESS! BE GRATEFUL AND NEVER EAT A STEAK!"

Well, folks, YOUR sense of entitlement pisses ME off.

See, I had 21 years of work history under my belt before I became disabled. I paid taxes for a lot of years. I paid into social security for a lot of years. I was FORCED to pay into these programs. I was forced so in the event I, or someone in my country, needed help to live it would be there. Like insurance. Sometimes you need it, sometimes you don't and you're damned lucky if you never do.

So, how many years is enough, you wailers of 'You're spending my money'? How many years is enough to pay in before it's ok to ask for it back without feeling guilty? Without being accused of being a drug addict and asked to take a test? Without hearing on a constant basis what a drain on society I am? How many thousands and thousands does one need to pay in order to not have to justify how I live my life? How much does one have to pay before they stop being accosted in the grocery store because one felt the desire for a steak?

If that money could have gone into an account of my own, managed by someone I trusted to make it grow, I wouldn't need to be in a program. We're not given that choice, though. We're made to pay into these programs, and then expected to never take advantage of them because...
ENTITLED BITCHEZZZZZZZ!!!!1111ONEONEELVENTYBAMILLION!!!
 
Fuck you, I paid my fair share.

You don't call the person pulling their money out of the bank entitled.

You don't call the government entitled for taking that shit and fucking it off.

You'd call a bank a thief if they took your money and then said, "HOW DARE YOU ASK FOR WHAT IS YOURS YOU ENTITLED CUNTS!"

You call me entitled, but you're awfully entitled telling me how I should spend what I gave my government in case some shit went down.

Maybe you should call yourself entitled the next time you file an insurance claim. Same shit, different smell.

Don't call me entitled for expecting what the fuck I signed up for when I signed my W-fucking-2.

And? Quit hating on my fucking steak.