Strangers In The Night: An Epic Zoomie Meltdown

 

    
  I've had several nosy visitors the last few years.

It all started at just about the time I went public with the dreaded Blood-Soaked Dog Massacre Incident…one of my pivot points.

Since that time, the government comes-a-callin' here two or three times a month...just to check up on little ol' me...a dumb-ass, harmless, know-nothing, no-readership blogger who apparently posts some key words here and there.

Well…looky here, ass-bags.

You got nothing better to do than spy on a blog that says mean and hurtful things about you and your treasonous goings on?

…a miserable little blog containing stories bragging about my teenaged children and their achievements?

…a trivial intardnets presence detailing the trials and tribulations of a worn-out and exasperated truck driver?

Come on and get you some if you feel froggy.

Assholes.

Take your NDAA and shove it.

Sideways.

Without lubricant.

I love my country, but I hate my government and all you fuck-stains for what you have done to it.

My hate is a seething white-hot hate.

…a hate so hot it vaporizes the blood.

…and I ain’t the only one.

Trust me.

You call me a domesticated terrorist because I own guns.

Well…I DID own guns until I lost them all in a heinous water skiing accident…but that’s another story for another time. 

Now I am cowering and defenseless.

You call me a domesticated terrorist because I support Ron Paul.

Well...the Republican nominee debates are a fucking joke. 

Except for Paul, the rest of these assholes don't take this shit seriously, and they act like it is a late night talk show.

Whoever has the sharpest tongue, whoever delivers the cleverest putdown, whoever has the nicest haircut and most fashionable clothes wins.

Ron Paul is mostly ignored, laughed at, or called dangerously nuts for being Constitutionally-grounded, non-interventionist, financially sound, and pro-life.

Paul was booed for advocating the Golden Rule, for God's sake!

Now I ask...who is it that is REALLY dangerous and insane?

You call me a domesticated terrorist because I am a veteran. 

Well…I took AND observed my oath.  I served honorably and without (much) complaint in one of your glorious wars for oil.  It was another one of my pivot points, and I have learned much since then.

You call me a domesticated terrorist because I fly a Gadsden flag.

Well…I am justifiably pissed off at you.  It’s my way of being peacefully defiant.  What do you expect?  What would you rather me do?  Something senselessly violent?  That’s exactly what you want me to do so you can finish putting the hammer down for everyone’s safety.

I’ve said it before.

I am a man of peace. 

I wish to live freely and be left alone, but I won’t stand idly by while me and mine are being vigorously ass-raped.

That’s it.

Don't start nuthin,' won't be nuthin.'

It is not difficult to understand.

You are creating and exacerbating the problem.

Unintended consequences, I believe it is called…

Blow-back.

Keep nudging, motherfuckers.

Keep poking your bony finger into our chests.

Keep demanding we respect your authority.

Keep telling us that your agents just want to go home at the end of their shift.

Keep demanding we make your enforcers feel “comfortable.”

Keep demanding that we help make their jobs “easier.”

Keep telling us that they are just doing their job...that it is difficult and frightening and stressful sometimes…and that is why they beat and kill with regularity.

Keep telling us that we are not doing enough to assuage your enforcers’ fears.

Go on.

Keep that shit up.

I despise a bully, and I ain’t afraid to risk it by popping a bully in the mouth.

…and I ain’t the only one.

Trust me

There is a whole fucking mess of us out here who are fucking fed up with your bullshit.

Normally law-abiding, hard-working motherfuckers are cherry picking which of your multitude of edicts we feel like following…and basing these decisions on some silly crap like…oh…I dunno…the fucking CONSTITUTION and the BILL OF RIGHTS!

Try it.

You might like it.

And you might find that your enforcers will discover that their jobs aren’t so frightening after all.

Some of you might be saying, “Zoomie!  You are old and delusional and full of shit.  You talk like Billy Badass with your keyboard, but you will soil your knickers and comply when faced with reality.  Go back to bed, old-timer.  Your ranting is becoming ponderous.”

Who’s to say? 

None of you motherfuckers know me or what I’m capable of.

All I know is that…this one time…in a foreign land…sorta like band camp but with more sand…I fixed a bayonet, locked and loaded, stood tall, and prepared to repel an enemy.

And another time…a little closer to home…I faced a danger head-on and came out on top.

I have confidence...as long as I get my nap in...and if I don't get my nap in, I get incredibly cranky.

Y'all wouldn't like me when I'm cranky.

Irritable and confident is a dangerous combination of character traits.

That's what I think.

So come on and get you some if you feel froggy.

Come in peace...and with a warrant, and I’ll have tea and buttered scones with frilly doilies for you.

Don’t, and I won’t.

Rattlesnake shake. 

  

Assholes.

Do-be-do-be-do...