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The Solution…

…to a passel of hassle
by Susan Bankston

Republicans in Texas want us all to have a voter picture identification in order to vote. Oh sure—like anybody looks like their driver’s license photo. I look like an 80-year-old man with a pointy hat and a perky set of ta-tas on mine.

Oddly, a current college ID with your picture on it does not count as a valid Texas voter identification, and neither does a veteran’s ID card.

However, a handgun permit does.

You’ve also probably heard that Republicans are spreading rumors that President Obama is going to take away everybody’s gun. They aren’t real clear on the reason why he hasn’t done it yet, but it’s probably because he just forgot to. You know, what with having to hunt down his birth certificate, then destroy our entire medical system, murder Vince Foster (oops, wrong Democrat), secretly send out mind-controlling waves to turn everyone into Kenyan Muslims with a good phony ID, appoint his comrades to the death panels, and . . . well, you know yourself what a busy schedule looks like.

Consequently, Republicans are totally obsessed with guns. And here’s the reason why. As Peter Gent wisely explained in North Dallas Forty, “Freud says that guns are an extension of your dick, Joe Bob.” While this puts women at a grave and deeply unfair disadvantage, it also explains why Democratic men don’t need guns.

However, I have a solution to this entire Republican obsession with the gun problem.

Now hear me out, because you’re gonna think this is a bad idea. You know, like people thought my drive-through liquor stores were a bad idea. Okay, so those were a bad idea, but this isn’t.

We liberals should get handgun permits. You do not have to actually buy an actual gun; you just have to get the permit.

Here’s how it works. You get your permit and hang it around your neck, put on your T-shirt with Castro Rocks!, PETA, Guns for Gays, or Malcolm X on the front, and go to a gun show.

Once inside, go find some guy who looks like he has an arsenal of hand grenades in his droopy drawers and stand behind him in line. The very second he finishes buying an AK-47, you loudly say, “I need something that shoots 57 yards farther than his.” The yardage doesn’t really matter, but we need to be consistent about this.

Then, mumble something about the Revolution scheduled for October.

You do not have to buy a firearm. In fact, my plan works better if you don’t, because then you can continue gun shopping and scaring the crap out of people with your mumbling about the whole 57-yard thing.

Just a little shopping tip: I learned the embarrassing way that gun caliber is not measured in horsepower. However, if you want to walk up to the gun counter and ask to see “something diesel-powered” with a scope the size of Vermont that can stop a herd of tanks or the Westborough Baptist Church, I’d be impressed. And, highly likely, the group of redneck crackers standing around would be, too.

Another effective line is, “Darlin’, do you have a handgun that will stop a Plymouth at 100 yards? Mumble, mumble, revolution, October, mumble, 57 yards . . . and do you have it in pink?”

I want you to stop for just a second and think about the sight of thousands of pissed-off women, gays, Hispanics, blacks, and big ol’ hairy white-wine fans threatening to heavily arm themselves for the whispered “revolution in October.” You think that will drive the right wing batcrap-crazy? Would a two-ton hog make a lot of bacon?

There’s one other thing you can do to help. When you hear a Republican say that President Obama is going to take away our guns, reply sweetly, “No, Honey, not our guns. There’s no ‘our’ to this. He’s taking your gun. And you know that whole ‘From my cold dead hands’ thing?  Well, Babe, we have a whole Czar of Making That Happen.”

First result: Republicans will quit caring so damned much about the Second Amendment.

Next result: they will become undocumented workers having anchor babies in Canada faster than you can say “eh?”

Final result: silence on talk radio and Fox news.

Am I a genius or what? Okay, so at least admit it was better than my idea of a drive-through liquor store.

Susan Bankston lives in Richmond, Texas, where she writes about her hairdresser at The World’s Most Dangerous Beauty Salon, Inc., at



Susan Bankston

Susan Bankston lives in Richmond, Texas, where she writes about her hairdresser at The World’s Most Dangerous Beauty Salon, Inc., at

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