Had the opportunity to spend a few days with the youngest tax deduction at a water park recently. A water park is a very educational place. (for those of you who don't know, a water park is NOT a playground with a swingset and teeter-totter that's been recently rained on, but a playground built and designed around getting wet) Did I mention that a water park is an educational place? Well, it is. For instance, I learned that there are absolutely no tattoos that are off limits to some people.
I have nothing against body art, but seriously, do you really want your grandkids one day looking at a tattoo of Frankenstein doing the un-mentionable to his bride? That's right folks, I saw a tattoo on the back of a guy that was Frankenstein getting jiggy with his bride. Although this might have been the lowest of the low, there were a whole bunch vying for second place! I saw a goat's head tattoo! (really? WTH were you thinking?) I saw lots of devil tattoos. I saw lots of cross tattoos. I saw LOTS of bad tattoos! Old tattoos, new tattoos, bad tattoos, good tattoos (there were a few!) (USMC and the tribute to the fallen soldier, gun upside down in combat boots with the helmet hanging on the gun, were a couple of my favorites). Lots of basic black tattoos, and several in full color.
I also learned that the best way to feel better about yourself is to go to a waterpark. Take off your shirt and walk around a while! I promise you, as out of shape as you might be, you've still got a LONG ways to go before you're the worst "in shape". (unless you consider a slightly off center pile of compost a "shape") I mean, people, come on now. If you have to ride the electric scooter to the water park because your so fat, YOU SHOULDN'T BE AT A WATERPARK!!!!!!! I saw more flesh in the last couple of days than Hugh Hefner has in the last twenty years!
Which leads me to piercings. Again, I have no issue with people that want to pierce miscellaneous body parts. Not my cup of tea, but hey, to each their own. But i still don't understand why anybody thinks it would be a good idea to look like a native of some African village! Do you really want to put the 2" gauges in your ears? Sooner or later you're gonna want to take them out, and your earlobes hanging down to your shoulders isn't really a good look! And if you look like a bean-bag chair with a beach ball in it, it's probably not the best idea to get your belly button pierced! (I don't even know if it was her belly button! She might have just said to the guy, just pick a roll and pierce it!) (which leads me to a question I've had for quite a while...If you have a nose piercing and you don't have the ring in, and you sneeze, does snot come out the hole?)
Another thing I learned was that a lot of people really love their 6 month olds and want them to experience waterparks too! Here's a newsflash! If your kid isn't old enough to walk, you're a dumb-ass to take them to a waterpark! Really? You want to put your infant in a life jacket and stick him(or her) in an innertube and let them float around the river thingy with the rapids? You have to be a special kind of idiot to think that's a good idea! And even worse, when the ride attendant tells you that your precious little bundle of joy can't go down the big slide with you, don't go! It's not the time to get 9 degrees of righteous on his ass for doing his job, trying to protect your baby! Use the space between your ears for once and realize that (A)The kid is just doing his job, and (B)You're a dumb-ass for even considering it!
Clearly, there are a lot of twisted, sick, confused, screwed up people out there! It makes me feel better about myself just knowing that I'm not THE MOST twisted sick confused and screwed up person out there!
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
A sad little tale, from a sad little man...
I have a question. Why don't they have pet plastic surgeons? I mean, who among us doesn't know a cute little beagle who's had one two many batches of puppies. She's got to be feeling a little bit self conscious about her, you know, "condition". You can see it in the way she walks. Not only does she look sad, she steps on her lady parts with every step. Think about it, we could do a little reality show about "Dr. Bob" (not his real name) helping out the poor pets of the world who just need a little help. Imagine Ty Pennington's voice from that "let's build them a new house" show saying, "Pootie has been a great dog, for a long, long time. But she had just gotten to the point where she didn't feel good about herself (cue sappy music here). No puppy needs to feel like this. That's why we're here. We're here to help the Pooties of the World".
Or what about Pet Psychologists? Well, yes indeedy, every pet needs to go see a counselor from time to time. Get a little puppy Prozac. I think there are really such a thing as Pet Psychologists, and I find that a little disturbing. I mean, what the hell does the family pet have to be depressed about? If you've ever seen any of my dogs, you know what I mean! They get fed every day, fresh water, get to lay around on the furniture in the a/c all day, then when ol' Johnny Boy rolls in, they come to me tails a-waggin, smiling, just wanting a little rubbin!
Now what my dogs probably need is a good doggie Dentist! Do a little something about that gingivitis! Breath smells like they just licked an Ass. Oh wait, they did.
Puppy massage therapist maybe? "Hey there, can you work on my Pootie's shoulders please. She's had an issue ever since the surgeon mistook her dog warts for, well, you know, her lady parts. She seems a little stressed out, which reminds me, i need to get her meds refilled".
But in all seriousness, what about the plastic surgeon deal? I had a dog that got his, uh, daddy dog parts stuck in a fence one time. Left a big nasty scar where you don't want a scar. He could have used a little help feeling better about himself. Imagine the looks he must have gotten from all the ladies. He could just hear them talking about "the scar", and wondering if his daddy dog parts still worked. "Dang, if it weren't for this scar, I'd have chicks lined up for miles waiting for me!" Then he died. Probably from a broken heart. A broken heart that could have been repaired. Death, from want of a plastic surgeon.
Or what about Pet Psychologists? Well, yes indeedy, every pet needs to go see a counselor from time to time. Get a little puppy Prozac. I think there are really such a thing as Pet Psychologists, and I find that a little disturbing. I mean, what the hell does the family pet have to be depressed about? If you've ever seen any of my dogs, you know what I mean! They get fed every day, fresh water, get to lay around on the furniture in the a/c all day, then when ol' Johnny Boy rolls in, they come to me tails a-waggin, smiling, just wanting a little rubbin!
Now what my dogs probably need is a good doggie Dentist! Do a little something about that gingivitis! Breath smells like they just licked an Ass. Oh wait, they did.
Puppy massage therapist maybe? "Hey there, can you work on my Pootie's shoulders please. She's had an issue ever since the surgeon mistook her dog warts for, well, you know, her lady parts. She seems a little stressed out, which reminds me, i need to get her meds refilled".
But in all seriousness, what about the plastic surgeon deal? I had a dog that got his, uh, daddy dog parts stuck in a fence one time. Left a big nasty scar where you don't want a scar. He could have used a little help feeling better about himself. Imagine the looks he must have gotten from all the ladies. He could just hear them talking about "the scar", and wondering if his daddy dog parts still worked. "Dang, if it weren't for this scar, I'd have chicks lined up for miles waiting for me!" Then he died. Probably from a broken heart. A broken heart that could have been repaired. Death, from want of a plastic surgeon.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Honey the BooBoo
Okay, I'm disturbed. No, I don't mean mentally (although that's arguable), I mean I'm really disturbed by something I saw on TV. If you know me more than on a casual basis, you probably know that I don't really watch a lot of TV. Very little really. I believe tonight I finally figured out why. It's something called "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo"! In case you don't know, this is a "reality" show about a family of about 30 fat girls and one hillbilly dude. And when I say hillbilly dude, I'm doing a disservice to hillbillies everywhere.
I know there are a lot of people out there who just absolutely love this show, and I'm pretty sure it's just because it makes them feel better about their own pathetic existence. I know that when I happened to be sitting in the living room cleaning the lint out of my belly button (innie, not an outie)(could you really clean lint out of an outie?) when this show came on, I found myself staring at the 42" flat screen in awe. It's like a train wreck, or a really nice fitting pair of yoga pants. You just can't take your eyes off of it.
I've heard about the show in the past, and probably even seen a couple clips. But never, ever, never would I have even begun to imagine just how depraved and deprived this country has become. When I asked the spousal unit where these things live, and she said she wasn't sure, but thought it was Georgia somewhere, all I could think was "thank God it's not Texas"!
To the best of my knowledge, there are 4 or 5 girls of the female variety living in this house with their Mom (June) and at least one of them's dad (Sugar Bear). I'm not sure if Sugar Bear is his real name, but that's what everybody calls him, so I'll go with it. I've heard that june recently lost about a hundred pounds, so I was assuming that this particular episode was filmed before the massive slim-down. When I inquired as to the reality of this, I was informed that "yes indeedy, this show is after she lost the weight". Holy crap! You can't tell where this woman's head stops and her cankles begin. She's the same size from just under her nose to the tops of her combat boots!
And this leads me to an observation...a guy has to have something going for him to get lucky. Play an instrument. Be funny. Be able to quote Shakespeare. Look like Brad Pitt. Know how to fix a car. SOMETHING! All a woman has to be is willing. Mama June here is living proof of that. I think there are about 4 different dads represented in the girls in this family. Must be a lot of desperate guys in Georgia! (Of course I did have a friend who you could always count on to have your back, because he was particularly fond of of "healthy" girls. Good wingman he was!)
I digress. This woman, and all the offspring involved are what I like to refer to as "Fat". Not healthy. Not big-boned. Not plump. The word here is fat. And ignorant. And red-neckish. And Mama June is the queen bee of them all. This is one fat, ugly woman! But Sugar Bear sure loves her. Just tonight he brought her flowers and made a comment about how he had a "chubby for his chubby". ( I just threw up in my mouth) (a lot)
I'm not sure where this goes, or what this means. What I do know is that apparently, I've made the right decision to not watch a lot of TV. But next time I do, you can bet your ass I'll have control of the remote!
I know there are a lot of people out there who just absolutely love this show, and I'm pretty sure it's just because it makes them feel better about their own pathetic existence. I know that when I happened to be sitting in the living room cleaning the lint out of my belly button (innie, not an outie)(could you really clean lint out of an outie?) when this show came on, I found myself staring at the 42" flat screen in awe. It's like a train wreck, or a really nice fitting pair of yoga pants. You just can't take your eyes off of it.
I've heard about the show in the past, and probably even seen a couple clips. But never, ever, never would I have even begun to imagine just how depraved and deprived this country has become. When I asked the spousal unit where these things live, and she said she wasn't sure, but thought it was Georgia somewhere, all I could think was "thank God it's not Texas"!
To the best of my knowledge, there are 4 or 5 girls of the female variety living in this house with their Mom (June) and at least one of them's dad (Sugar Bear). I'm not sure if Sugar Bear is his real name, but that's what everybody calls him, so I'll go with it. I've heard that june recently lost about a hundred pounds, so I was assuming that this particular episode was filmed before the massive slim-down. When I inquired as to the reality of this, I was informed that "yes indeedy, this show is after she lost the weight". Holy crap! You can't tell where this woman's head stops and her cankles begin. She's the same size from just under her nose to the tops of her combat boots!
And this leads me to an observation...a guy has to have something going for him to get lucky. Play an instrument. Be funny. Be able to quote Shakespeare. Look like Brad Pitt. Know how to fix a car. SOMETHING! All a woman has to be is willing. Mama June here is living proof of that. I think there are about 4 different dads represented in the girls in this family. Must be a lot of desperate guys in Georgia! (Of course I did have a friend who you could always count on to have your back, because he was particularly fond of of "healthy" girls. Good wingman he was!)
I digress. This woman, and all the offspring involved are what I like to refer to as "Fat". Not healthy. Not big-boned. Not plump. The word here is fat. And ignorant. And red-neckish. And Mama June is the queen bee of them all. This is one fat, ugly woman! But Sugar Bear sure loves her. Just tonight he brought her flowers and made a comment about how he had a "chubby for his chubby". ( I just threw up in my mouth) (a lot)
I'm not sure where this goes, or what this means. What I do know is that apparently, I've made the right decision to not watch a lot of TV. But next time I do, you can bet your ass I'll have control of the remote!
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
We all know those people. You know, THOSE people. Those people whose lives must be so absolutely devoid of excitement that they make crap up in their heads to make themselves feel better. I'm not talking your run of the mill fishing story (you 'member that time I caught that 43" 56" 87" redfish), I'm talking about stuff that they really believe.(at least I think they really believe it)
You know the type, "did you hear about so-and-so? She's getting a divorce! Why I remember when she barely got the part in "Bye-bye Gordy"! The only way she got that part was because she knew my nephews next door neighbors best friends sisters babysitters uncle, who knew that guy who once knew the lady that ran the catering trucks best friends assistants cousin." You know the type, full of themselves, full of insecurity, full of jealousy. These are the people that I like to refer to as "Bitter little Widgeons".
Their lives never quite measured up to what they had imagined in their little heads, so they create a reality for themselves of people they "MAY" have met, known, been acquainted with, or, more likely, got to meet one time when they were but a small child, based on not what they did, but, rather, the actions of someone they know.
Compare this, if you will, to the actions of someone like myself. Someone who has met, and/or entertained countless celebrities/sports figures/famous people just based on being myself!(and being in the right place at the right time)
Why, I remember one time when I entertained Jerry Jones, (you know, the owner of the Dallas Cowboys) for literally minutes! There I was, up on stage in Vegas, performing my act with my partner Redfish, when, what to my surprise should appear, a miniature man, and 2 not-so tiny breastesses. He was so impressed with our act that all he could say after was "damn, there was these 2 drunk guys in the bathroom". That's right, after peeing right next to Jerry Jones, he came out of the Bathroom laughing and shaking his headously little head because, yes, I, made, him, laugh! (would have been much more spectacular if a: I had known he was in there, and b: I hadn't been so drunk)
Then there was the time that me and my best friend Tim Duncan of the San Antonio By-Gawd Spurs went to the grocery store together. We were just hanging out, buying cookies and onions together and having a grand-old time, when I realized, "crap, I'm in HEB with Tim Frickin Duncan. I said Hi. He said "Hey". We bonded. We're now pretty much best friends.
Did I ever tell you about how me and Avery "The Little General" Johnson, a member of the World Champion San Antonio Spurs got to be be best buddies? Well, there we were, me and the eldest offspring, taking in the sights, enjoying the day, when I heard a little voice say, "dad, can i go on the moon-bounce"? It was at that point that I turned to him, and in an equally whiny voice said "well I don't know you little bastich, are you made of money? Well, are you?" But I digress. It was at this point that Mr. Johnson said from behind me "I've got extra tickets, he can go with my kids". So my child, the moonlight of my life got to jump on the moon-bounce with Avery Johnson's kids, and I got to hang and talk with Avery (Hope he doesn't mind me calling him Avery) for the next 10 minutes. Class guy all the way around!
Or how about the time I got a hug from Cheryl Ladd. That's right my friends. I got a hug from Cheryl (as in Charlie's Angels) Ladd. The real deal. She's still hot. Did I mention that I had a poster of her hanging on my wall when I was but a wee lad?
So, what's all this mean? I have no idea. What I do know is that I've had the privilege of meeting several famous people during the course of my life. Some of these I've actually spoken to! Does this make me any better than you? Damn right! Just kidding of course, but at least when I tell the stories of me hangin with some famous people, you know that I've maybe MET some of these people, but I can't say that I actually KNOW these people. That's the difference between me and "those" people. I'm not delusional enough to actually believe I know and am personal friends with everybody that I've ever seen their name in the credits from some old crappy western.
See, the way I look at it is this...if you have to tell everybody, repeatedly, how important you are because you met all these people at one point in your life, you're living a pretty shallow, pathetic existence! Get out and do something memorable based on your own merits! Don't try to name-drop to impress me, cause it ain't gonna work. I don't give a crap who you've met, slept with, sung with, swapped slobber with or whatever. I care about what kind of person you are. Period. If you've got to build yourself up based on who you know, you don't need to know me! Or the people I care about. Shut the hell up Biotch!
You know the type, "did you hear about so-and-so? She's getting a divorce! Why I remember when she barely got the part in "Bye-bye Gordy"! The only way she got that part was because she knew my nephews next door neighbors best friends sisters babysitters uncle, who knew that guy who once knew the lady that ran the catering trucks best friends assistants cousin." You know the type, full of themselves, full of insecurity, full of jealousy. These are the people that I like to refer to as "Bitter little Widgeons".
Their lives never quite measured up to what they had imagined in their little heads, so they create a reality for themselves of people they "MAY" have met, known, been acquainted with, or, more likely, got to meet one time when they were but a small child, based on not what they did, but, rather, the actions of someone they know.
Compare this, if you will, to the actions of someone like myself. Someone who has met, and/or entertained countless celebrities/sports figures/famous people just based on being myself!(and being in the right place at the right time)
Why, I remember one time when I entertained Jerry Jones, (you know, the owner of the Dallas Cowboys) for literally minutes! There I was, up on stage in Vegas, performing my act with my partner Redfish, when, what to my surprise should appear, a miniature man, and 2 not-so tiny breastesses. He was so impressed with our act that all he could say after was "damn, there was these 2 drunk guys in the bathroom". That's right, after peeing right next to Jerry Jones, he came out of the Bathroom laughing and shaking his headously little head because, yes, I, made, him, laugh! (would have been much more spectacular if a: I had known he was in there, and b: I hadn't been so drunk)
Then there was the time that me and my best friend Tim Duncan of the San Antonio By-Gawd Spurs went to the grocery store together. We were just hanging out, buying cookies and onions together and having a grand-old time, when I realized, "crap, I'm in HEB with Tim Frickin Duncan. I said Hi. He said "Hey". We bonded. We're now pretty much best friends.
Did I ever tell you about how me and Avery "The Little General" Johnson, a member of the World Champion San Antonio Spurs got to be be best buddies? Well, there we were, me and the eldest offspring, taking in the sights, enjoying the day, when I heard a little voice say, "dad, can i go on the moon-bounce"? It was at that point that I turned to him, and in an equally whiny voice said "well I don't know you little bastich, are you made of money? Well, are you?" But I digress. It was at this point that Mr. Johnson said from behind me "I've got extra tickets, he can go with my kids". So my child, the moonlight of my life got to jump on the moon-bounce with Avery Johnson's kids, and I got to hang and talk with Avery (Hope he doesn't mind me calling him Avery) for the next 10 minutes. Class guy all the way around!
Or how about the time I got a hug from Cheryl Ladd. That's right my friends. I got a hug from Cheryl (as in Charlie's Angels) Ladd. The real deal. She's still hot. Did I mention that I had a poster of her hanging on my wall when I was but a wee lad?
So, what's all this mean? I have no idea. What I do know is that I've had the privilege of meeting several famous people during the course of my life. Some of these I've actually spoken to! Does this make me any better than you? Damn right! Just kidding of course, but at least when I tell the stories of me hangin with some famous people, you know that I've maybe MET some of these people, but I can't say that I actually KNOW these people. That's the difference between me and "those" people. I'm not delusional enough to actually believe I know and am personal friends with everybody that I've ever seen their name in the credits from some old crappy western.
See, the way I look at it is this...if you have to tell everybody, repeatedly, how important you are because you met all these people at one point in your life, you're living a pretty shallow, pathetic existence! Get out and do something memorable based on your own merits! Don't try to name-drop to impress me, cause it ain't gonna work. I don't give a crap who you've met, slept with, sung with, swapped slobber with or whatever. I care about what kind of person you are. Period. If you've got to build yourself up based on who you know, you don't need to know me! Or the people I care about. Shut the hell up Biotch!
Friday, May 31, 2013
Ramblings
I'm a member of a couple different social media sites. I'm not really sure how many social media sites there are, but I do know enough to know that I'm not actively involved in all of them. To tell the truth, I'm not really active in any of them. I go on to see what everybody is up to, or catch up on the latest news & gossip (mostly gossip), but that's about it. I do find it amusing, however, to see what people post on these sites.
First and foremost question I'd like an answer to is "when did Facebook become home to Betty Crocker's frickin cookbook"? I don't care what you made for dinner last night. I don't care how tasty it was. I had a piece of salami and a slice of cheese. Maybe I can post the damn recipe for it. Make sure you share it so that you have it on your home page! (Open the package of lunchmeat and gently remove a single slice of salami. Place salami on paper towel,(or hand) and open the wrapper from the slice of cheese. Eat and enjoy!) Really people. How many of you are ever gonna cook the crap that you save on your homepage? I know some will, but really. Really.
And politics. Holy Ninny-Muggins. Every other frickin post, tweet, twit, update, and whatever else they're called is a political post of some sort. Hang the damn Democrats! Bludgeon the Republicans! Force an enema on the Libertarians! Did you know that the entire Gulf War was because the liberals decided they didn't want the Iraqi's to be able to use MARY Kay Cosmetics? The Conservatives are the reason you can only buy toilet paper in even number of roll packages. The Libertarians just want to party and smoke weed. Holy Mother of Merwin! Get a grip people.
And stop telling me the little dog in the picture is going to die if I don't share the post RIGHT NOW! Truth is, I saw the same post 2 years ago, and I didn't share it then either. Either the puppy is a happy, healthy 2 year old dog playing with little Timmy now, or it's dead. Either case, I don't need to share the picture.
Or perhaps my favorite. If I share of a picture of (insert rich person here), they are going to give me $5000 dollars!!! You've gotta be a special kind of dumb-ass to really think it's gonna work. But wow, Bill Gates has billions! That's why he's doing it! Got news for you Sunshine, he didn't get that much money by giving it away to people posting a picture of him!
How about the fact that if I don't forward the ancient Chinese master puzzle fortune cookie card in 10 seconds, I'll have 5 years of bad luck? 10 seconds from when? It's like when you see a commercial on TV and they say that. Well, you're showing the commercial in 3 different time zones, 27 times a day, so chances are, most people aren't going to be able to call within 10 seconds.
Same thing with the "are you brave enough to post this" posts. "Share if you believe in Jesus". "Post if God is your #1". "forward if you stand with Christians everywhere!" You know what? I don't need to forward any of these things for God to know where I stand. He knows. I just skip them, but I always wonder, just a little bit, if somewhere, my preacher is keeping tally. (I'm pretty sure he's not, because I've never seen him forward them either!)
Why can't things just go back to the way they were. When the only reason you joined any kind of social media site was to see what the hot girl with big hooters who sat behind you in Trigonometry class looked like now!
First and foremost question I'd like an answer to is "when did Facebook become home to Betty Crocker's frickin cookbook"? I don't care what you made for dinner last night. I don't care how tasty it was. I had a piece of salami and a slice of cheese. Maybe I can post the damn recipe for it. Make sure you share it so that you have it on your home page! (Open the package of lunchmeat and gently remove a single slice of salami. Place salami on paper towel,(or hand) and open the wrapper from the slice of cheese. Eat and enjoy!) Really people. How many of you are ever gonna cook the crap that you save on your homepage? I know some will, but really. Really.
And politics. Holy Ninny-Muggins. Every other frickin post, tweet, twit, update, and whatever else they're called is a political post of some sort. Hang the damn Democrats! Bludgeon the Republicans! Force an enema on the Libertarians! Did you know that the entire Gulf War was because the liberals decided they didn't want the Iraqi's to be able to use MARY Kay Cosmetics? The Conservatives are the reason you can only buy toilet paper in even number of roll packages. The Libertarians just want to party and smoke weed. Holy Mother of Merwin! Get a grip people.
And stop telling me the little dog in the picture is going to die if I don't share the post RIGHT NOW! Truth is, I saw the same post 2 years ago, and I didn't share it then either. Either the puppy is a happy, healthy 2 year old dog playing with little Timmy now, or it's dead. Either case, I don't need to share the picture.
Or perhaps my favorite. If I share of a picture of (insert rich person here), they are going to give me $5000 dollars!!! You've gotta be a special kind of dumb-ass to really think it's gonna work. But wow, Bill Gates has billions! That's why he's doing it! Got news for you Sunshine, he didn't get that much money by giving it away to people posting a picture of him!
How about the fact that if I don't forward the ancient Chinese master puzzle fortune cookie card in 10 seconds, I'll have 5 years of bad luck? 10 seconds from when? It's like when you see a commercial on TV and they say that. Well, you're showing the commercial in 3 different time zones, 27 times a day, so chances are, most people aren't going to be able to call within 10 seconds.
Same thing with the "are you brave enough to post this" posts. "Share if you believe in Jesus". "Post if God is your #1". "forward if you stand with Christians everywhere!" You know what? I don't need to forward any of these things for God to know where I stand. He knows. I just skip them, but I always wonder, just a little bit, if somewhere, my preacher is keeping tally. (I'm pretty sure he's not, because I've never seen him forward them either!)
Why can't things just go back to the way they were. When the only reason you joined any kind of social media site was to see what the hot girl with big hooters who sat behind you in Trigonometry class looked like now!
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
This ought to piss some people off!
Well, they're at it again! Our dear friends in Washington want to ban assault weapons. My only real question about it is, what's an assault weapon? Wouldn't the literal definition be "a weapon used in assault"? If that's the case, there are a lot of things that need to be banned!
There are a bunch of people out there who have never held a gun in their lives, who are surrounded by police (who are armed), secret service agents (who are armed) and military people (who are armed) who believe the path to public safety is to take away the weapons from law abiding citizens. Bet they're pretty damn glad to have all the armed people around them when they go out in public!
Apparently these are "good" guns. As opposed to "bad" guns. It's like hitting a bad shot on the tee box on #4 and blaming it on your driver! "Damn driver is screwed up! We need to ban all drivers that have an orange head! All the rest of them are good, but the ones with the orange heads are bad!" Silliest damn argument I've ever heard.
For all you dim-wits out there who think passing more laws is the answer, YOU'RE FREAKING MORONS! I can just see the lines of people waiting to turn in their guns once they're banned. There's a little old lady with an AR-15 who likes to target shoot, and right behind her is a guy with a 20 year long criminal record wanting to turn in the Glock he "acquired". He just wants to do the right thing! "The Police told me I couldn't have this no more, so I'm here to turn it in!" Yea right!
Fact is, you can pass all the laws you want to, the guys who use guns to rob people, kill people, threaten people, etc., AREN'T going to turn them in! If you think they are, you're delusional! The only difference will be that the "law abiding" portion of the country won't be able to defend themselves!
And why "assault weapons"? Is it because they look scary? Compare the size of the ammunition for an AR-15 to a 30-06 for example. The AR-15 ammo is about 1/2 the size! Is it because it's a semi-automatic capable of firing several rounds without re-loading? I own a semi-automatic 30-06, with a 5 shot magazine. What's the difference between the two? One looks black and scary, the other looks like a hunting rifle! I thought we weren't supposed to judge based on looks!How about a 12 gauge shotgun with buck-shot? Again, I happen to own a semi-automatic capable of holding 5 shells. It's not black, so does that make it different from the AR?
I know all of the gun-ban talk is based on the tragedy in Connecticut, but our government has a very long history of "knee-jerk" reactions when these types of things occur. You can't change society, laws, morals or anything else based on the actions of one demented jerk-wad. I would also like for someone to explain to me how new gun-laws would have prevented that tragedy from happening. He took the weapons from his mom, who (I'm assuming) acquired them legally. I guess he just couldn't read the sign at the school that said "this is a gun-free zone".
Bad guys are always going to exist. I don't care what laws you pass, they are always going to be able to get their hands on a gun. Buy a gun, learn to use it, and when the bad-guy with the gun shows up to rob you, or pull off some mass killing, shoot him in the head! That's the ONLY way to stop them from doing bad things with guns!
There are a bunch of people out there who have never held a gun in their lives, who are surrounded by police (who are armed), secret service agents (who are armed) and military people (who are armed) who believe the path to public safety is to take away the weapons from law abiding citizens. Bet they're pretty damn glad to have all the armed people around them when they go out in public!
Apparently these are "good" guns. As opposed to "bad" guns. It's like hitting a bad shot on the tee box on #4 and blaming it on your driver! "Damn driver is screwed up! We need to ban all drivers that have an orange head! All the rest of them are good, but the ones with the orange heads are bad!" Silliest damn argument I've ever heard.
For all you dim-wits out there who think passing more laws is the answer, YOU'RE FREAKING MORONS! I can just see the lines of people waiting to turn in their guns once they're banned. There's a little old lady with an AR-15 who likes to target shoot, and right behind her is a guy with a 20 year long criminal record wanting to turn in the Glock he "acquired". He just wants to do the right thing! "The Police told me I couldn't have this no more, so I'm here to turn it in!" Yea right!
Fact is, you can pass all the laws you want to, the guys who use guns to rob people, kill people, threaten people, etc., AREN'T going to turn them in! If you think they are, you're delusional! The only difference will be that the "law abiding" portion of the country won't be able to defend themselves!
And why "assault weapons"? Is it because they look scary? Compare the size of the ammunition for an AR-15 to a 30-06 for example. The AR-15 ammo is about 1/2 the size! Is it because it's a semi-automatic capable of firing several rounds without re-loading? I own a semi-automatic 30-06, with a 5 shot magazine. What's the difference between the two? One looks black and scary, the other looks like a hunting rifle! I thought we weren't supposed to judge based on looks!How about a 12 gauge shotgun with buck-shot? Again, I happen to own a semi-automatic capable of holding 5 shells. It's not black, so does that make it different from the AR?
I know all of the gun-ban talk is based on the tragedy in Connecticut, but our government has a very long history of "knee-jerk" reactions when these types of things occur. You can't change society, laws, morals or anything else based on the actions of one demented jerk-wad. I would also like for someone to explain to me how new gun-laws would have prevented that tragedy from happening. He took the weapons from his mom, who (I'm assuming) acquired them legally. I guess he just couldn't read the sign at the school that said "this is a gun-free zone".
Bad guys are always going to exist. I don't care what laws you pass, they are always going to be able to get their hands on a gun. Buy a gun, learn to use it, and when the bad-guy with the gun shows up to rob you, or pull off some mass killing, shoot him in the head! That's the ONLY way to stop them from doing bad things with guns!
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