My mind is a dangerous place. Make sure you wear a cup.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Unarmed, still dangerous...

I sold my guns the other day. I finally came to terms with the fact that in all likelihood I am not going to get the chance to shoot someone. This is a shame, because in Florida it has never been easier to get away with it than it is right now.

Chances are slim that someone would break into my house. But if it happens, I will be ready for him. There may be no firearms at the ready, but I still have many other weapons at my disposal:

I can mount an aggressive filibuster, pointing out the error of his ways, until he falls asleep.
I can turn our rabbits loose on him. They can nip like the dickens.
I can scream like a little girl until he freaks out and runs away.
I can cry until he slinks off in embarrassment. Men can’t deal with tears.
I can dress up in a donkey costume and scare him off. It is a well known fact that burglars are terrified of donkeys.
Three words: Piranha filled moat. Why even let him get into the house?
I can sneak up behind him, club him in the back of the head with a baseball bat, plunge a steak knife into his torso eleven times, kick him in the face and scatter his teeth like chiclets, sever his carotid artery with a nail file, dig a shallow grave in the backyard, throw him in, cover the body with lime, fill in the grave, clean up all the blood inside the house with my Swiffer Wet Jet Mop, and act like like nothing happened.

Yeah, I think I'll be fine. I might even leave the front door unlocked tonight.

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