Entries tagged with “Georgia”.

Let us pray, then reload.

Let us pray, then reload. Amen

The Georgia state legislature has passed a groundbreaking law requiring all gun stores to offer religious services.

Rep. Phil Muffordy of Rome, Georgia explained his thinking behind the law passed today. “We were going to pass a law allowing guns in church, but I thought, why not shoot two birds with one bullet? Let’s just put the dang church in the gun store so you can worship while re-loading. Makes sense, doesn’t it? And since there’ll be armed folks ushering, I’m sure the take in the collection plates will be plentiful. My law’s proof God didn’t give us big brains for nothing.”

When asked what denomination the churches would be, Muffordy pulled a Glock and pointed it at this reporter’s head. Then he slowly asked, “What kind of stupid question is that, boy–– you Al-Qaeda, or something?!”

This reporter wet himself, cried and prayed.

A gun offers protection and makes a dandy bookmark.

In Georgia, like many states, we seek protection against the devil and his kin.

So, I’m happy to report we recently passed laws to make it legal to take your firearms with you to church. This means you can keep your sidearm close at hand as you rifle through the Good Book.

It’s about time.

Some say places of worship should be quiet, contemplative and peace-loving, but that’s just the way Satan likes to bait his hook. You’re sitting there with hands folded in prayer and SHAZAM, here comes some nutcase with an AK-47 who wants to kill everyone because his 8-track player broke while he was listening to Black Oak Arkansas or he thinks Glenn Beck told him to extract justice any way he sees fit. Well, Churchie McPeacie, there you are–– an easy target. You’re a sitting duck in a pew about to be bullet fodder!

But if you’re packing heat, you can take that evil-filled varmint down toot-sweet and get back to asking God to go easy on the sixth commandment because it was self defense, after all. While you’re at it, you might ask if He’d givith you a few number tips for the PowerBall lottery, or some pony picks in an upcoming race.

Pass the collection plate and pass the ammo, Sister!

Guns in places of worship make perfect sense in these crazy times. But please, remember that silence is golden and also remember the golden rule.

Kindly refrain from firing your guns into the ceiling when services are complete. It sends a bad signal.


Behold the glory of what was...

Behold the glory of what once was.

   As roadside attractions go, it’s hard to top the Gaffney Peach, conveniently located by Interstate-85 in Gaffney, South Carolina. Constructed in 1981, it’s a million dollar water storage tank that’s shaped like… get this… a PEACH!

   It’s a wondrous sight when one is zipping along trying to avoid the long radar arm of Johnnie Law. This large peach on the horizon is the sort of thing that brings angels to tears and makes puppy fur feel softer. It’s a middle finger thrown to the traveling residents of Georgia, the alleged “peach state”, claiming the crown for South Carolina.

    But tragically, last year this glorious monument was sullied, spoiled and shat upon by a Fatz Cafe erected in its shadow with a hideous neon sign obstructing the magnificent view of peachy water tankery. Makes me want to puke my spleen.

The peach of my eye is poked.

The peach of my eye is poked.

The sin, the shame, the injustice of it all!

The sin, the shame, the injustice of it all!

   Now I’ve never eaten at a Fatz Cafe and I assure you that I never will after what they’ve done. They have soiled a monument, a national treasure. It’s like drawing a black marker mustache on the Mona Lisa or putting Popeye arms on Venus de Milo. Fatz has ruined a work of art.

   I hope you’re happy, Fatz Cafe, you Fatz Catz, for marring the jewel of I-85. My heart goes out to all Gaffney’s children (all motorists are Gaffney’s children). Boo hoo hoo hoo, woe be we.


Maybe I should pay closer attention to details...

Maybe I should pay closer attention to details...

It seems there’s a country named “Georgia” and it’s clear across the world.

Why someone would name a country after a state is beyond me (except to fool people), but it seems that the Russians have invaded the country of Georgia, not the state of Georgia where I live.

So I feel a little foolish writing about a conflict I thought was here when actually it was way over there. I feel sorry for the other Georgia and suggest the Russians go home and chill, for crying out loud. To quote Nick Lowe, “What’s so funny about peace, love and understanding?”

As for me, maybe I should pay a bit more attention to the news and not be quite so reactionary. Then again, being ever vigilant isn’t such a bad thing, is it? My apologies for the misunderstanding. I blame the media.


Ready for action. I see it all so clearly now.

Ready for action. I see it all so clearly now.

They’re out there. Somewhere. Out there. I listen closely and can almost hear their dirty commie lung winds being exhaled. I sit and wait. Sit in the dark. Waiting. My finger is perched atop the trigger of a semi-auto bolshevik repeller. I am not afraid to use it. I’m surrounded by ample munitions, Doritos, gummy worms and Red Bulls. Hmm, “Red” Bulls. Maybe I am falling into their trap. Maybe this is their elixir, their pinko poison. Do I question capitalism and democracy? No, no, I embrace and love these like a kitten loves her warm mittens. I am safe. The Red Bulls are safe. I think. I think the Red Bulls are safe. But then maybe that’s what they want me to think. Yes, the ol’ logic switcheroo. Just to be safe, I’ll lay off the Red Bulls. I’ll sit, listen and wait. Are they here? I don’t know. The news said Russians invaded Georgia, but so far I haven’t seen a trace of Trotskyites. I wonder. If they are here, where the hell are they? I wonder. Sitting, waiting in the dark. Need a gummy worm, bad, real bad.


How many commies can you count?

How many commies can you count?

The news is ablaze that Russians are invading Georgia. I’ve been sequestered beneath my desk disguised in a unicorn costume (the last thing they’d ever expect to find in Georgia, what with unicorns mostly being extinct and all). But I’ve yet to see any commie aggressors.

As this recent picture attests, if the Russians are on Georgian soil their uniforms are blending right into the landscape. This is what makes the red menace so deadly dangerous. Keep a watchful eye, people, they could be slipping Fluoride into our water supply at this very moment. Why do Stalinists hate dentists so much? It’s just not right! Dentists could help us with off shore drilling, ice caps and bridges.

Be safe. Stay hidden. Don’t make borscht. We’ll make it through this, somehow.