“All rightey!” I hear you say. “Jerry’s posted something at last!” [Right. just who do I think I’m fooling?] It’s as if the doorbell rang and you’re expecting your favorite mother-in-law. But when you open the door, what do you see? A burning paper bag. You weren’t born yesterday; you know what’s inside.
That’s how I feel about the last thing I posted. You came for Suicide Squirrel II, and got a serious, if muddled, discussion about the role of government. I stand by whatever I said (I’m sure it will make sense in the morning), and I really hope I get lots of comments that force me to develop my thesis more fully. For the occasional random visitor to this blog, though, it’s pretty heavy.
Hey! Occasional Random Guest! Yeah, you! Don’t you care about our country? Or yours? Don’t step on that bag!
In other news, we got a hit on “car passed over” today. Who the heck would search on that? Got another squirrel guts hit, but it was from an insider. Also got “elevator squirrel ocelot guts rutabaga death cult” a couple of days ago from someone in the Albuquerque public schools. Now who could that have been?