Here is something to munch on, are you carrying? Seems there was a flurry of 'call the family your children are visiting to find out if there are guns in that home" not all that long ago - and I couldn't for the life of me remember any neighbors home that didn't have guns in it where I grew up. And we couldn't touch the guns in another person's home - right up there with the things that would change our lives violently and painfully - and look like a totally ill mannered fool.
Well, I won't carry to work in the prison. But grocery shopping and riding the motorcycle are going to get a little more exciting. Sense of responsibility for law and order, defending the truth and justice in the coming world of change, ride out to right the world's wrongs... the man of la mancha.
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Is that picture original? If so, that's some nasty hammer bite you've got going on.
Where I grew up, asking someone if they had guns in their home would be like asking them if they had food to eat or air to breathe.
First, they'd look at you like you're crazy, then they'd say "Of Course we do; what are you...stupid or something?"
When someone asks me if I'm carrying, my answer is the same. If they ask me why, I turn the question on them: I ask if they read the papers and see all the crime and violence that happens in our city every day...then I ask them why they AREN'T carrying.
That usually makes for some short conversations.
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