April 9, 2008
take your daughter gun to work
The Florida legislature has passed a law that will allow people to carry guns at work.
“The second thing they wrote about in that constitution was the right to bear arms,” said Sen. Durell Peaden, a Republican from Crestview, Florida. “It was what was dear in their hearts.”
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10 Responses to “take your daughter gun to work”
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No! We meant the right to bare your arms at work! Jesus, we will have to fix this like Arkansas had to rewrite to keep toddlers from getting married!
That is an excellent idea.
The right to carry handguns is now the law in something like 38 or 40 states, I think.
tde: an excellent idea
I don’t have anything against carrying handguns–it’s just that the rules are all so muddled: don’t carry it into the liquor store; don’t carry it with you to school; don’t carry it to church; don’t carry it with you when you shake hands with the president…sheesh, looks like we need less government. And what’s with not letting kids carry them? I was blazing away when I was ten and I don’t think I ever shot anybody. True story: I had a friend when I was ten–he was eleven–and he had an ammo collection. Great stuff–like those shotgun rounds with a big blob of mercury in them, and the bolo round–piano wire between two slugs. And in a box, in cotton, his pride and joy: a live grenade of the pineapple type, not a drill mark on it. Those were the days. His dad once organized a birthday party for him at the gun range. All these little kids with pistols, and none of them could hear anything because of the ear protectors–it was hilarious. And all of them wanting to bust a few rounds on the fifty cal they had set up with a really fucked up washing machine down range. But it cost a dollar a shot so only the birthday boy got to rip…. Texas. We are on top of everything in this regard.
Daryl – looks like you got me beat since I didn’t own an actual firearm until I was 12. I had to make do with bb guns and loaners until then.
Daryl, that birthday party story is a pip! Reminds me of one of the pre-ceremony events my ex-husband attended at a wedding up at a Wisconsin farm. (I think that the groom’s grandparents owned the place.) It was a car shoot. Somebody donated an old junker, and the hosts were thoughtful enough to loan firearms to those who didn’t have (or bring) their own. Heard that everybody had a swell time. I didn’t participate in the car shoot, though I don’t think that girls were banned; I was busy pulling together my play list on account of I was the wedding deejay. (A hint to wedding deejays who want to break the mold but fear a guests’ revolt: Deep-six “The Chicken Dance” and “YMCA” and play a mess of Cajun music. Everybody gets up and dances to Cajun music — even in Wisconsin.)
I went and digressed, didn’t I?
Anyway, the image of all those little kids and the washing machine — that’s priceless.
Sheila–Cindy and I went to see a man lives up in Denton county (Deron, you know who I’m talking about)–he has a big spread up there with many buildings on it that are filled with all the stuff he has spent his life collecting. He was showing me around, showing me all of the moldering taxidermy, cases and cases of arrowheads, rocks and fossils, jars and crocks–and we went into one heavily padlocked shed, where he had hundreds of firearms. Pump shotguns, black powder shotguns, ancient military muskets, a few flinlocks…it was amazing. And it was there that he told me this: “I had to start locking everthing up because somebody started coming out here stealing things. Got some of my air compressors. I saw him and could have shot him. But it messes up your whole week when you shoot a man–you have to go into town and do all that with the grand jury, and the police.” I told him they changed the law recently–something about the “castle law”–and now you don’t have to show that you tried to run away from a threat before you shoot. “Yeah, that’s what the police told me when they got out here. Said go on and take him out. So I’ll just shoot him next time.”
Sounds like advice a Denton County cop gave a friend of mine years ago. Told her if she wanted to go and shoot some prevert that was prowling around outside her house, she could go ahead and do it so long as she made sure to drag him partway through a window or doorway before the law arrived.
We had a tornado drill at work today. During the zombie crawl to the lower parking level a woman ahead of me spoke of guns, suicide and senseless violence to her friend.
“I won’t have a gun in my home. It only takes that one second of bad judgment or passion and you’ve changed someone’s life forever, maybe even killed them or yourself. Nope. No guns in my house.”
After listening to her bullshit ramblings for 8 flights of stairs I considered going out, buying a gun, and planting in her purse just to see what happened.
She was right though. She shouldn’t have a gun. I should. You never know when that crazy bitch might snap.
I forgot to add the bit about “Dynamite Dan”–a guy who went around to rodeos (or parties at gun ranges) to perform his act. Dressed something like Eval Kineval he would sit down in a cardboard box with two sticks of dynamite on the ground just outside of it, and with his ear protection in place he would hit the switch and blow himself halfway across the field. Then he gets up, waves, and all present begin to cheer–only to break into the chant: “Three sticks! Three sticks! Three sticks!”
[...] Daryl Scroggins: Cindy and I went to see a man lives up in Denton county (Deron, you know who I’m talking about)–he has a big spread up there with many buildings on it that are filled with all the stuff he has spent his life collecting. He was showing me around, showing me all of the moldering taxidermy, cases and cases of arrowheads, rocks and fossils, jars and crocks–and we went into one heavily padlocked shed, where he had hundreds of firearms. Pump shotguns, black powder shotguns, ancient military muskets, a few flintlocks…it was amazing. And it was there that he told me this: “I had to start locking everthing up because somebody started coming out here stealing things. Got some of my air compressors. I saw him and could have shot him. But it messes up your whole week when you shoot a man–you have to go into town and do all that with the grand jury, and the police.” I told him they changed the law recently–something about the “castle law”–and now you don’t have to show that you tried to run away from a threat before you shoot. “Yeah, that’s what the police told me when they got out here. Said go on and take him out. So I’ll just shoot him next time.” [...]