I remember the first Earth Day when I was a kid. I came home from school and walked down the road picking up trash so I could help save the planet. I don’t feel that way anymore. If someone tells me one more time I’m destroying the planet by driving my car instead of riding a bike, or turning up the heat two measly degrees, then I just might have to kick their self-righteous, politically correct arse!
Message to the far left: It’s not my fault. You made me this way. A man can only handle so much guilt and low self-esteem before he fights back. I used to be sensitive. I drove a Kia to save the planet; I picked up trash; I recycled. Now I cut down trees and burn wood to heat my house. (As hot as I want it. As hot as the flames of hell!)
I burn wood. I kill animals. I eat them. I shoot guns – lots of guns! I love guns. I carry them with me everywhere I go. I joined the NRA just to spite Sarah Brady. I scoff at PETA and all the other tree-hugging fools. I taught my kids to play cowboys and Indians and that the cowboys should always win. But it’s not my fault. The left made me this way. And truth be told, I get a strange, euphoric satisfaction from being as politically incorrect as possible.
I think my grandfather, God bless his ornery soul, would tell me this: “Now I want you to speak yer mind. Don’t let people kick you around! If somethin’s right, then it’s right. It don’t make no never mind what people call you, cuz you know in yer heart who you are and what ya stand for. The most important thing is that you DO make a stand; that you’re kind to women; that you defend the weak; that you stand up to injustice; that when someone does the wrong thing you’re there to kick their carcass back in line.”
Yup! That was my Grampa. He was a free man.
It’s true. The left controls us.
Question: But how do we break the chains?
Answer: Say what you want to say – the way you want to say it.
In my way of thinking, you can call me anything you want. Just don’t call me late for dinner.
