Guns Don't Kill People...Babies Kill People

Guys selling Pinon firewood from their trucks In my neighborhood

You may have noticed that my posts lately have been primarily about me, me, me and very little about living in Santa Fe. There are good reasons for this.

First, I find the subject of me to be endlessly fascinating and, unlike some of my family and friends, I do not find the topic "tiresome" or "tedious" or "relentlessly uninteresting".

Second, as seen in the photo above of some guys selling Pinon firewood, it is still winter in Santa Fe and I have a tendency to hibernate. I am certain that there are a lot of interesting things going on here, but who cares? it's cold.

And third, I believe that I am developing a little touch of agoraphobia because of recent happenings both online and within my proximity.

Recently some 22 year old dilt in Albuquerque named Dante Aikins went to the theater to see "Avitar". Evidently it was a popular excursion because the theater was completely filled with movie-goers anxiously waiting to be entertained.

I know that we all sneak things into the movies. I simply wont leave for the theater without my pockets filled with Funyuns, a delisiciousy grilled cheese samich, some gummi worms and my flask of vodka. Evidently Dante Aikins also chooses to sneak things into the theater but, instead of the wholesome goodness of processed food products and liquor, Dante likes to fill his pockets with loaded weaponry.

I am certain that Dante's little gun friend makes him feel all powerful and important like—I am sure that Mr. Gun tells Dante that he is a big man. Unfortunately, while Dante was fondling Mr. Gun in the theater he accidentally dropped it on the floor causing it to discharge into the crowded room hitting one person in the foot.

What did Dante do?

He got up out of his seat, squealed "Who's shooting fireworks in here" and ran to the nearest Red Roof Inn where he was subsequently arrested.

Idiot.

The way I see it, Mr. Gun is like Mary Kate and Ashley. Yes, privately you are friends, they make you feel important and occasionally you might even be caught fondling them. But good Lord, you sure as hell don't want to take those trolls out in public. Stop embarrassing yourself Dante and leave Mr. Gun at home.

I know that Dante is probably a product of his environment and upbringing. One of my new besties that I found through Blogger's New and Improved Next Blog Link posted a little training video from their compound in Georgia that illustrates that it is never too early to teach children the laugh-out-loud humor and family fun associated with shooting guns and the kill.

Babies Kill People
by santafesteeze

I wont post their names or a link to their blog because, quite frankly, they terrify me. With daddy asking "Do you like it?" and the sister-wife in the background shouting "Again, Again!", the trajectory of this child's destiny is nearly certain—baby Dante.

And you know that sister-wife's directive to "shoot those waskely wabbits" is just code for "kill weft wing wiberals". Besides, shouldn't her ass be in the kitchen or laundry room or birthin' another baby. I think daddy needs to spend less time teaching junior to fire weapons and concentrate on keeping sister-wife's mouth shut.

And it doesn't stop there.

Just a couple of days ago another window-licker (probably Dante's cousin) stole a parvo and ringworm infected Rottweiler puppy from an Albuquerque animal shelter. What kind of stupid turd steals a dog from an animal shelter? The whole intent of the animal shelter is to GIVE animals away. A friend of mine that volunteers at the Santa Fe animal shelter told me that they will even work with individuals to help reduce or eliminate the nominal spay/neuter fee if necessary.

Idiot.

Meanwhile, the Albuquerque animal shelter is begging that the dog be returned for medical treatment because not only is the dog extremely contagious, but could quite possibly die from the infection.

So there you have it—important events in Santa Fe and beyond. Now I think that you can easily understand why during the winter months I choose to hibernate and tend to dwell on the ever pleasant subject that is me. It sure beats getting shot by children or getting infected with ringworm. Danger, danger, danger—it's everywhere!

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