When I was making my Christmas gift list for yesterday’s post, I came upon a lot of gun-related gift ideas. Just – really – so many. I decided to cut most of them out (except that impressive bullet cleaning case for Dad!) and make them into their own post. Because that’s kind of what we’re into lately. Either fewer guns to stop violence, or more guns – to – somehow stop violence. I don’t pretend to understand it.
Nor am I so politically correct that I do not recognize that people are just kinda wired to be violent. Our caveman brains have us craving the same diet, so why not also have us using the same strategies to fight off enemies? Like terrorists, or your nosy neighbor? And using guns that fire 4 billion rounds a second (I’m estimating here) instead of clubs. Children – and let’s face it, this is mostly a boy thing – love guns. I remember in the daycare I worked little boys as young as two loved to make “Boodah Boodah” noises while chasing each other with armed fingers. As per rules, I told them not to play guns. They were confused, and said “We’re playing Boodah -Boodah.” It’s just so ingrained they don’t even know what they’re playing, they just ARE.
I have daughters, and they are into dolls. Okay so the dolls sometimes get violent. And the stuffed animals (Olaf please come home!) I have nothing to do with this whatsoever so stop looking at me like that. But really, who hasn’t had a violent thought at least once a day, like toward traffic, or a bad job, or grass – you know how it is. The difference is how we choose to act on it. And whether that action makes us the hero or the villain. Take this quote from, you guessed it, Facebook News.
I had to read this headline a couple of times. Then click it, of course, because say what? Apparently someone tried to shoplift items from a Home Depot but a Concerned Citizen with a Concealed Handgun Permit decided to save the day. By firing at the car as it drove away. In the parking lot of a busy store. She seemed very confused as to why she was being “punished” for this by getting, I’m not kidding, 18 months probation and her gun license taken away. The idea that shoplifting is not, in fact, punishable by death in this country did not seem to occur to her. Or that she might have hit completely innocent bystanders while firing off her weapon like she was Rambo of the suburbs. Nope, she’s just not going to try to help anyone again! Well, I certainly hope not. But I have some great gift ideas for you, lady. And all your wacky friends! (Click to enlarge and see all the wackiness in these products.)
- The Gun Mug
I’m not sure if they thought this gift out very well. Unless you are planning on letting your friend drink from your gun while you hold it, then you are pointing the gun at your own nose while drinking. I do like the description though – “Enter your model number above to make sure this fits.” Fits what? Your finger? Is finger size a problem? Also “Fun pistol shape for adds excitement to a beverage.” I sure am excited and having the funs drinking from this gun mug! Don’t try this with real guns – either pointing them at your nose or drinking coffee from them. We might need a warning placed on this mug.
2. Grandpa Has a Gun T-Shirt
I’m not sure what part of this disturbs me the most – the fact that Grandpa is planning to kill someone (hint: you might give him the coffee cup if he’s a little senile for safety) or the fact that it says “pretty granddaughters.” That ups the creep to maximum ick levels guys. I mean, are we implying that he’ll just shoot anyone because he has a pretty granddaughter, or is this is the old “treat my girl right or I kill ya boy” gag that is such a riot? And what if his granddaughter isn’t pretty? Will he just stick with a steak knife? Who knows? At least you can rest assured it’s printed in the US of A, people.
3. Gun Cylinder Pencil Holder
Are your pens locked and loaded? Haha! This pen holder is clearly a necessity for the office, because it not only got 62 positive reviews, but is actually back-ordered. No, really! While it might seem a bit gauche to some, I think it serves a very clear purpose. If your coworker has this and the gun mug on his desk, take proper precautions. Like a new job.
4. Warning For Not Warning Sign
So this person is unhappy with rising prices of ammunition (did they shop at Home Depot?) and decided to put up a sign warning people that they would not give a warning shot if they fire on them. Thanks – for the warning? I love the bullet holes, which are supposed to be stylish, yet just confirm that people took your sign so seriously they fired on it. Oh, the irony! Good for indoors and out, and naturally made in the USA!
5. Shotgun Shell Pocket Knife
Sometimes people have to make hard choices. Like do you carry the blue purse or the green purse? Or the knife or the gun? Well now you don’t have to choose because you can have both! It’s not a real shell, but it has the actual size and feel of real shell, and that’s what’s important. Now it they really wanted it to be handy, you could also load this into a gun, like in James Bond. I bet someone is working on that now. I love my country. Available in multiple colors!
Well, there were so many more good ones I wanted to add – like the Four Piece 12 Gauge Shotgun Shell Coaster Set W/ Base for that gun lover who also likes to entertain (they should hang that warning sign up over the dinner table for added ambiance!), but I ran out of room so I’ll call it a post. Merry Christmas, Amuricans, and please try not to shoot Santa before you get your gifts.
First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, (‘the exact shape doesn’t matter,’ it said,) and then all the party were placed along the course, here and there. There was no ‘One, two, three, and away,’ but they began running when they liked, and left off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was over.
– Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
*Note – this was originally published in 2011 back when my audience consisted of three people or so, one of them me. I decided to resurrect and update it some in honor of our upcoming
doom election. Hope you enjoy it!
There is a cold, soul-stealing chill in the air. Leaves die and fall from the trees, as the world prepares for the killing frost. What could this be a sign of? That’s right – it’s the political season! Haha, I’m only kidding. Politics does not have a season, for yea, it is eternal. As soon as a president is elected, the opposing party mounts a campaign for the next election while the newly elected president tries to keep himself popular enough for reelection, unless he is the incumbent, in which case he just tries not to do anything too embarrassing for his party. You know, like randomly declaring war or messing around with interns or selling illegal weapons or just generally acting like an asshole.
Obviously, many presidents fail at this. The only president most people have any respect for is Abraham Lincoln, and that’s because we don’t remember much about him except that he freed the slaves and all, which was swell of him to do, what with us having been a “free” country for a hundred years. So Abe was cool. Also George Washington because he was first. We like them so much we have a federal holiday for them (and a three day weekend if we’re lucky). But they are the exception. Gone are the days when our leaders were idolized figures. We’ve been cynical about politics for a long time, but with the economy in the toilet, people are getting downright psychotic.
In Wonderland, there is a caucus race, in which several strange creatures run round and round again in a race with no clear beginning or end. So politics have not changed since Carroll’s time, nor really since the beginning of time. The only people that would subject themselves to being President are clearly mad, so our pool of candidates has created what is known as voter apathy. As in, Americans vote more for their favorite American Idol than they do for President. Really though, you can vote for American Idol on the Internet, whereas with the president you have to figure out what district you’re in (they change them every election for fun), track down the obscure location, stand in line (if you’re in Texas, I advise you vote Democrat – much faster lines), and figure out the screwed up ballots. Every state does it differently, with Florida winning the medal for stupidest voting methods ever. On the plus side, during the 2000 election we did get to use the term “pregnant chads”. When else would you have opportunity for that?
So let’s say you’re crazy – er ambitious – enough to run for President. What do you have to do? Well, it helps if you are a wealthy, middle-aged white male with plastic hair. If you can’t manage that, you’d better have a great campaign slogan. Like “Choose me. At least I’m not so and so!” Be your own man – or really hot woman (this helps the sexist men look over your fault of not having a penis. Cause you’ve got bosoms, which are better.) The People like someone who speaks his mind. Of course you’d better not speak your real mind, or you’ll embarrass everybody. You have to impress your party platform also, or no amount of plastic hair and waxed teeth are going to get you the nomination. Hint: If you are a Republican, try not to mention “choice” too much. And if you’re a Democrat, don’t talk about how your favorite dish is endangered seals. It won’t go over well. If you’re a Libertarian, you can say whatever the hell you want, because no one will vote for you anyway.
But what if you don’t have any real viewpoints? What if you’re so stupid you only got through college because your wife (future First Lady!) did all your term papers for you while you drank heavily with your frat brothers? Not a problem. You don’t actually have to have views on the issues, or even know what they are necessarily. All you have to do is make the other guy look like more a loser than you are. This is known formally as Debate. The moderator will ask you questions to see how you stand on the issues. Oh, oh, questions! Again, don’t fret, project. And if that doesn’t work, change the subject. Observe the model below:
Moderator: Mr. Smith, what will you do to improve the economy?
Smith: Well, I will not do what Mr. Jones did.
Moderator: Great. What will you do?
Smith: Abortion is wrong. Jones likes abortion. He aborts babies for fun. In fact, he likes getting women pregnant just so he can perform more abortions. Abortion.
Moderator: That has nothing to do with the issue we are discussing.
Smith: Well it should. Abortion is important. Mr. Jones likes abortion. Also, he’s gay.
And so forth. Keep dancing around the questions while taking jabs at your opponent. Be sure you don’t say anything concrete that they can nail you on later. If they keep pressing you, claim that you are being prejudiced against because of your sex, race, national origin, or lack of intelligence. And then point out that the other candidate likes having orgies with nuns.
If you can do all this and secure your party’s nomination, you’ve got it made. Well, until you actually get elected. Then it’s time to start all over again.
Okay, so last time I was starting to crack just a bit, but now I am so pumped you guys. Leila has her gun pointed at Ana! Yes! We’re so close. Killherkillherkillherkillher!
I mean, um, such tension! Poor, poor Ana. What to do, what to do? Oh, hey, if it isn’t Leila herself!
Alice: Leila I am so so so happy to see you!
Leila: Okey dokey.
Alice: I’m on the edge of my seat here, Leila. You have to tell us all what happened. Did her head explode like a cantaloupe? Was there a brain inside, or just a broken speak-and-spell like I’ve been suspecting?
Leila: Oh. Well. See, Ana walked in. And I pointed the gun at her. And she just stood there. So I watched her like you do those freaks at the circus.
Alice: And then you shot her.
Leila: Nooo, I spoke cryptic to her. She doesn’t like cryptic, nope. I said “alone” a bunch of times, really spooky, cause I’m Leila the friendly ghost, Alice.
Alice: Right. Okay so then you shot her.
Leila: She offered me tea. Isn’t that funny? A tea party with guns! And I started talking about Master – that’s Christian. I also call him my preciousssss.
Alice: Okay. We’re about to get to the shooting. Any minute now. I just know it.
Leila: Master came into the room then!
Alice: Great! So you shot them both!
Leila: Noooo. He stared, and I stared, and Ana stared, and so did the chair. And Ana started to wig out. She suspects that Master and I are in true love.
Alice: She would worry about something like that even with a gun at her head.
Leila: But then he said the word, and I fell to my knees and dropped the gun.
Alice: What? No, wait, what word? What word could make you do that?
Leila: Arby’s. I really like Arby’s, don’t you?
Alice: . . . .
Leila: Master took the gun and walked to me and petted me. I like being petted. Sometimes he gives me kibbles when I’m good too. Hmmm. Kibbles.
Alice: I just – you had them, Leila. Why didn’t you shoot?
Leila: That does seem weird, doesn’t it? I don’t quite know. Ana was so upset. She didn’t want to leave because Master was petting me, and not her. Nanner Nanner Anner. Taylor had to carry her out of the room because she wouldn’t go. Ha, ha, ha. Lookie, here comes Ana now!
Ana: Hey, what is SHE doing here?
Leila: Howdy Doody, Ana.
Alice: I’ve been interviewing her about the ordeal, Ana. Or is this inner goddess? Or subconscious? Or the Wizard of Oz?
Ana: I’m Ana, of course! And she should be back in the mental ward! How did you escape, Leila?
Leila: There’s this revolving door at the hospital. Round and round it goes.
Alice: Yeah, um, Ana, I hear you didn’t want to leave when Christian was comforting Leila here.
Ana: Of course not! She is a rival for my affections! I was afraid if I left he’d start making out with herrrr and not meeee!
Leila: And they put ME in the mental ward.
Alice: No kidding. Look, Ana, Leila had a psychotic break. I sincerely doubt even Christian would screw someone who’d just had a mental breakdown.
Ana: But, but she’s everything he wanted. She’s submissive and will let him tie her up and swing her from the walls and I – I just can’t do that for my man sobbbbbbb!
Leila: That’s true. Maybe we did do it. Yeah. With buttplugs. And ponies. Lots of rainbow ponies.
Ana: I KNEW IT! Noooooooo!
Leila: And then he fastened me to Snuffaluffagus, and whipped my hiney and the ponies all sang with delight!
Alice: Just – stop that! Both of you.
Ana: I’m inwardly keening.
Alice: No you aren’t. Now, just – just – what did Christian say when you told him you were worried about him getting together with Leila?
Ana: Well first I decided to drown my sorrows in booze with Ethan. I was so SAD Alice.
Leila: Sad, sad, sad pony!
Ana: Alice make her stopppp!
Alice: I’m going to hurt you both. What did Christian say, Ana?
Ana: He, he, he said it wasn’t about meeeee.
Alice: Holy shit, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s actually right. It wasn’t about you, you nimrod. He was actually trying to help this poor girl he has clearly screwed up beyond repair.
Leila: Ponies, ponies, pooooonieeees!
Ana: Poor, poor Christian got so scared that I was going to leave him! So he fell to his knees before me! He wants to be my submissive!
Alice: Great. Hit him with a hammer. Then hit yourself. Please.
Ana: I must go tend to my man. Who is MY man, so leave him alone, Leila.
Leila: Okey dokey. Alice, do you want to stay with me?
Alice: In the mental ward?
Leila: We have lime Jello.
Alice: Really? Lime, huh? Sure, let’s go.