Just where is the line between civilization and total anarchy and chaos? Thanks to those “good folks” like the testosterone challenged at the National Rifle Association and their zealous Republicronies who need “my big kill” “hunting” stories to supplement their deficient manhood, it’s open season for gun carrying in the Minnesota side of Prairie Country and a whole lot of other places.
And we don’t mean those rifle racks that decorate pickups in hunting season. Or the bozos sittin’ boozed up on the side of the road, guns clutched in their cold, passed-out hands. Yep. Seen that myself. Not surprised it goes on in those fancy-schmancy “hunting” preserves, too.
No, thanks to conceal and carry laws like the one in Minnesota, preachers can go packin’ to their Sunday sermons. But then, so can anyone walking in through the front door. Unless the church proactively says no. Oh, not as “no” as the gun nuts tried to force, thanks to some sensible justice for a change, but still...
And if you think you can stay away from people packin’ by sleepin’ in on Sunday morning, well, has George W. Bush’s Interior Department got a new wrinkle for you:
Park rangers, retirees and conservation groups are protesting a plan by the Interior Department to reconsider regulations restricting loaded guns in national parks.
But then what would we expect from the folks who gave us shootin’ an old guy in the face and feedlot plinking for quail and other game. Like skeet shooting, ’cept they kick up the quail. Might as well hunt your grandkids’ stuffed animals, eh, Grandpa Dick?
Well regulated? That’s for chumps like you and me who believe in sensible gun laws, strictly enforced, with loopholes and nutty exemptions closed.
As for those macho guys, let’s make it sportin’—why don’t you go out on the front lines in Afghanistan or Iraq? Hey, if a fresh-faced young Prince can do it, why not you?
They corrupt everything they touch. Everything.