Thoughts from the ammo line


Ammo Grrrll analyzes BELIEF SYSTEMS. She writes:

So I was driving my 18-wheeler rig down the 17 toward Phoenix thinking about things I believe. A Prius driver I was passing on a curve gave me the one-finger salute (either for using too much of our dwindling supply of fossil fuel—HOW DARE YOU? — or for the offensive American flag on my truck). I yelled out the window that we could go behind the barn and settle it there – or do a pushup contest, whichever he preferred. As he dialed 911, I remembered that I can’t do pushups since my rotator cuff injury and that I have no barn and I was in my 2012 Hyundai Sonata, not a big rig. Haha, where DOES my brain go sometimes? Well, at LEAST I’m not senile, or surely some journalist would mention it.

Oh well. One of my core beliefs is that life without humor would be unendurable. That got me thinking about my Top Five favorite jokes in the world, one of which follows.

A wizened and extremely unattractive old crone was sidling her way across the Mississippi Bridge near the University of Minnesota. Suddenly, she noticed a youngish man standing on the railing getting ready to jump!

“Hold it there, sonny, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I have lost everything,” he said tearfully. “My wife left me; she took the kids; I’ve been let go from my job; my house has been foreclosed on and my car repo’ed.”

“My, my,” said the crone, sympathetically, “That IS a heap o’ bad luck. But I am a witch and I can get all those things back for you.”

“Seriously? What’s the catch?” he asked. “I have no money.”

“Well, hon, to tell you the truth, it’s been a long time since a man has made love to me. I would like us to go to my apartment, have a night of mad passion, and in the morning, I will wave my magic wand and all those goodies will be returned to you.”

He thinks it’s worth a try and probably better than suicide. They go to her modest apartment and it turns out she is an energetic old babe. It’s this way, that way, this way, that way all night long. The man falls asleep, exhausted. He wakes up the next morning, thinking it must have been a bad dream, but ARRRGH! There she is and she wants to go again.

“Now wait a minute, fair is fair,” he complains. “You said ONE night and in the morning, you would do that magic wand thing.”

“You’re right, I did say that. But just let me ask one question: how old are you, sonny?”

“I just turned 42.”

“And you STILL believe in witches, huh?”

Before we make too much sport of the poor hoodwinked man, just take a moment to think of all the things our Worst Ruling Elite Ever believes. Which would be fine if the moronic likes of The View and late night talk show hosts were just expressing these beliefs in their own little asylum. But we are also forced to believe – and must say aloud that we believe – these irrational, illogical heresies every single day or be cancelled. Let’s list just a few, okay?

Teachers must not be forced to do their jobs until every single communicable disease, including the common cold (which is, after all, a coronavirus) is wiped from the face of the earth. But just because they are not doing their jobs certainly does not mean they should not be PAID. Goodness gracious, perish the thought.

The American Medical Association is busy trying to come up with genderless birth certificates. The lunatics have won! And in such a short time. There goes the whole “It’s a boy!” cigar business. And Gender Reveal cakes. These are DOCTORS! Has everyone gone nuts?? What? “Congratulations! It’s a…baby”?? Isn’t that species-ist?

An Olympic athlete who takes a “mental health day” during an international match is “brave and courageous.” I feel healthier already. And extremely brave by osmosis. If next week I choose not to send in a column, I expect nothing but tributes to my courage in its stead. Women deciding not to do gymnastics because they might get beat = D-Dayish level courage! Men fighting for liberty against the most powerful Army at the time: just preserving slavery!

Expecting voters to go to the horrendous and racist lengths of being alive, citizens of this country, and presenting ID that confirms they are who they say they are is exactly the same as White Only Drinking Fountains, lynching and Poll Taxes. Also Hitler. (Black Only Proms, dorms, beauty pageants, and fraternities, however, are not only just fine, but righteous.)

There are more genders than you can shake a stick at. You must learn them all so as never never never to mis-gender someone who is 6’5” with a large Adam’s apple, a five-o’clock shadow and Size 13 high heels by politely calling him “Sir” while he gently kicks over the displays and swears at you in a feminine manner while insisting he is a “Ma’am.”

Mis-gendering is not a “mistake” or even a “discourtesy”. No, mis-gendering is violence. Mansplaining is violence; using the wrong pronouns is – you guessed it! – violence. Oddly enough, only actual violence is NOT violence, but just the “underserved” shopping the off hours at Target so as not to inconvenience the checkout people.

Math is racist and probably violence. Oh yeah? I’ll see your “math is racist” and raise you one “getting the right answer is racist.” Hold my beer. “Sure, getting the right answer is obviously racist, but I will add that being ‘certain’ of things is WHITE.” Also, punctuality.

Picking someone up at Sky Harbor in Phoenix, I arrived several hours early to avoid hellacious Phoenix rush hour and watched people in the airport. A very large lady wore a t-shirt that said “I am beautiful, brilliant and brave.” Now, I am all for self-confidence, but my first thought was that if you have to advertise that you are “brilliant,” you might not be. But what the heck is up with all this self-congratulation on stunning bravery that seems to be a plague among women? Talk about stolen valor! It’s downright embarrassing. Life is tough and we all face challenges. Not EVERYTHING is equally brave, including weighing 400 lbs.



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