The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.


I read once that the tendency to vote is genetic. I’ll blame it on that.  This morning, my husband texted me…

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I loved his comment about the shit hitting the fan tomorrow. Somehow I think either way we will all be standing in front of that fan, though.

Phil doesn’t love Trump, but neither does he dislike Trump as much as I do.   What he does love is the Second Amendment, and despite all the other ridiculous things that Trump has claimed he would do if elected (like building an imaginary wall along the Mexican border or being reliably pro life) the only one that I think he actually would do is protect the Second Amendment.  Hence…

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Hillary is projected to win easily, so I know my vote was pretty much meaningless. Outside of the Second Amendment, I really can’t stand Trump…and even if he were somehow to win, you must understand that in my political fantasies, the British Navy sails across the seas and reconquers America. Then they get rid of their own horrible democracy, and weird Prince Charles and ugly Camilla are exiled to Scotland where they spend their days drinking that disgusting Laphroaig scotch whiskey, and then lovely Queen Catherine and good King William rule over us with wisdom and gentility and Ye Goode Olden Dayes return.    Or maybe I just read the Chronicles of Narnia one too many times as a child.

Barring that outcome, though, I would at least like to still be able to have access to firearms and ammunition for hunting, recreational target shooting, and personal self defense.  But since we will all most likely be saying “President Clinton” tomorrow morning, I probably won’t even get that, and I’ll just be left with my monarchist fantasies…

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