Some questions deserve to be answered, others defy logic at every turn.
The "Right-to-Life" coalition staged a candlelight vigil/march through downtown Grand Junction last night. I would guess 2-300 of these delightful and well-intentioned souls were out there - each carrying a single slender burning candle, as if to the manger of Bethlehem.
I had to traverse the march to get my gear into the gig. Nearly got hot wax on me. If I'm not paying for the hot wax "up-charge" - and you're not an NFL cheerleader in a teddy - I find it presumptuous and rude.
I saw a woman I even knew in the march. She looked the other way when she saw me- I think a little embarrassed.
I am also right-to-life;...... as in - "Right-to-MY-Life", as well as "Right-to-YOUR-Life".
Fellas we have no business weighing in on this one . It only spells trouble....we are not effectively qualified to mandate in the area of womens reproductive organs - anymore than they're entitled to mandate that, upon entering into any committed monogamous relationship with a significant other; - that our male testicles be surgically removed and placed in a very nice Chambreaux crystal glass of preservative formaldehyde, on a lacy pink doily, on the break-front nightstand beside the picture of her cat Boo-Boo.(A very well groomed Persian mix).
For our own self-preservation fellas,all politics aside. - any further ovarian interdiction by men has got to stop.
Do any of you really think that any male, apart from Richard Simmons, is qualified to tell any woman what to do with her ovaries? If you said yes, you're way dumber than I look. When's the last time any of you meat-whistles won an argument with your "significant other" - that didn't end up with you wishin' you would'a just shut up to begin with? Hell I can't even get one to change a flat tire in a rainstorm when I'm too drunk to say "noodle". We'll get into that later.
Anyhow, As I sat on my wooden box singing revolutionary songs of disenchantment last night, pedaling like
Unfortunately I was forced to stop my march before I got too far; both by dangerous weather conditions (under 45 degrees), and a Grand Junction Police officer. A frightening man with an itchy trigger-finger and his hand on his loaded banana. The fight will continue, but I just want to let folks know we're out there. We're a subsidiary of the International "Don't be a Dick" Foundation.
If I show up at the trailer in my underwear and a sombrero again, the dogs are gonna start talkin'
It's time for me to take a break now and go kill something to eat. Today I'm making shotgun.hummus.
"Don't take any wooden nickels"