Two nights ago, I smoked one in celebration of the 2nd Amendment. It started when some hippie in a truck (when did hippies start driving trucks?) started tailgating me on the north end of Market Street. He was waving his hands, honking his horn, and throwing the kind of hissy fit that only hippies and two-year olds can throw. This fit took place despite the fact that I was driving above the speed limit in traffic that was too thick to clear a significant path for the hippie had I changed lanes.
But, shortly after this hissy fit, something funny happened. As the hippie passed me slowly to the right (and as I prepared to test his lip-reading ability) he shot me a peace sign and smiled. I didn’t understand his sudden change of mood until I remembered the picture of a 1911 Model .45 Auto posted on my rear window. Below the picture it reads: “Protected by the Second Amendment.” I immediately decided to call my friends at the Patriot Post to thank them for sending it.
Later on, as I lit up my Double Ligero, I realized that one of the great things about the Second Amendment is that you don’t actually have to display a gun to encourage a little civility. Just knowing it’s there can cause people to think twice. Even hippies can rise to the occasion and think twice when the alternative is a 230-grain hollow point.
Before I finished my cigar, I hatched a sinister little plan. I decided to call my friends at the Patriot Post to have them send me a stack of stickers that show a gun covered with a big “X.” Below the gun, reads the following caption: “Gun-free household.” After I post those on the doors of all my liberal colleagues, I suspect some will become supporters of the Second Amendment, too.
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