Well it looks like I may have used too many of my allotted words in yesterday’s postings, and I’m less than creative in my thinking process today.
I hate to admit that I’ve spent a small portion of the wee hours batting penguins around for points. It was just one of those silly online gamesites and with just the right nifty sound effects, you get penguins to jump head-first off a mountain peak where you (sort of a Yeti type creature) are waiting with a bat. Swing and hit them and see how far they’ll skid for points. I’d love to point you to this little stress-relaxer, but unfortunately, there are enough nut cases out there who can’t tell a real penguin from a cartoon.
I do get weary of not only government, but indeed even more so, the activists that raise holy hell, do some damage to folks who don’t think the way they do, then force even more government regulations on the populace because they can’t just learn to live and let live.
I was raised on TV programming of cowboys and Indians, detective stories, and cartoons that involved characters getting shot, stabbed, flattened by rocks, beaten with clubs, were fried and died, and none of my family or friends also subjected to this entertainment were ever involved in aggressive actions towards others. I think we could tell the difference between actors and real people. I know I knew that I could safely point my cap gun at my sister and pull the trigger ONLY because it wasn’t a real gun. Neither did I pull that cap gun out when I was mad at her; it was only when we played at being cowboys. And as usual with siblings, she got me mad often enough. Geez, I never even threw a ball at her.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology