dreams come to him hot;
flesh spasms in the Sandman’s arms.
Abortion, Your Honor?
Every now and then, someone makes an absolutely ridiculous comment about an issue like abortion. In the name of balance (and to keep myself from smacking an idiot in the teeth), I often respond with something as absurd as the statement I’ve just suffered.
Seems fair, right? I mean, Confucius says, “Man who spewths crap shall expecth shite.”
I’m not sure why Confucius is speaking in such filthy and dreadful archaic English. I also fail to understand why most individuals who spew nonsense look so perplexed when a person flings a healthy load of their own twaddle back at them. If they already believe in stupid, why would a bit of moronic be a problem?
These observations came to mind after someone contacted me, asking if I would sign a petition that bans an e-card which suggests that “If abortion is murder, then blowjobs are cannibalism.”
The invitation came laden with coercive statements—I don’t like anyone trying to push me around; for when we lose our freedom to choose, the loss of Self follows. I like me. So I replied with the haiku at the beginning of the post. You’d think this individual would like it. Seriously; who doesn’t like poetry? And when was the last time someone replied to your email with a flesh-felt haiku? But nope, the person followed up with livid drivel about eternal damnation, fiery pits and something about sodomy—we’ve all heard it, so I won’t insult your gag reflex by sharing sheeped words.
Anyhoo, I’m off to the hospital… again. Let the testing begin… again. *baring teeth and paddling*
A Perplexed Picasso