Thursday, August 15, 2013

A Case Against Concealed Carry

Let me just tell you this, okay?

I never glance sidelong in envy at your smart phone, okay?

No matter how high its IQ, regardless of what the television commercials portray - I don't care, see?

See, right now I'm preoccupied with a doctor's BMW parked in the lot at a community mental health center which serves the (billable) poor, disabled, destitute, homeless, and disenfranchised mentally ill; and I'm wondering what color the flames would be should I decide to broad jump the line between thought and action.

The sciatic nerve is really only an electrical cord running from somewhere in my pelvic girdle to my foot, despite the fact that it screams and howls like a backed-over-hound, so I'm thinking of drilling a small hole and just unplugging it, then rooting the damn thing out with my own hands.

You know, it's really a beautiful day - cool, sunny, pleasant - that I am limping through, hating everything I see.

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