Guns have been part of my life since the day I was born. I mean that literally. My father pushed the barrel of a tiny .22 into my mother’s vagina, I grabbed on, and he pulled me out. I was ushered into this world holding my first gun.
From there, I was nursed with a gun, my parents would put baby formula inside barrels of various guns and have me suck it out for nourishment. Sometimes they’d cut the formula with some gun oil, so it’d go down easier. I’d often fall asleep in my crib, a colt 45 nestled in in my mouth, dreaming of guns.
August 28, 2014
A Reasonable, Level-Headed Gun Enthusiast Suggests Small Gun Control Changes
[H/T to Bob S. who says, “Marlarkey and then some.”
The two paragraphs above are the least offensive. It goes downhill from there. He thinks of himself as a comic but I couldn’t find anything funny in his entire post. I think he has crap for brains. That he lives in Chicago probably explains the rest.—Joe]