Allergies

Took my sons over to the house of fellow prof.

Drove the coche de Grease. A 2001 Lincoln town car, black as sin and shiny as expensive sin. About 24 feet long. This is not a car that liberals would drive. They would feel bad just riding in it. (Before you say anything, it gets 22-23 mpg, highway).

Pulled up to a sandwich shop in Chapel Hill. Walked past some nut-hugger, who muttered something about gasoline.

Inside the shop, we ordered lots of sandwiches, enough to feed the party we were going to. All with lots of meat. (There is a Chapel Hill ordinance that says "Meat is murder", by the way. And fish have feelings, in spite of what Nirvana said.)

Nut-hugger comes inside, orders a veggie sandwich. Glares at us. She is wearing a black felt hat, black jeans, black Birkenstocks, and a sort of black sweatshirt. Pretty clearly not one of my people. But she sneezes, loudly, and without thinking I said, "Bless you!"

Might as well have smacked her. Driving a Lincoln, eating meat....she already knew I was a bad guy. But language that could be interpreted as religious? That's where she drew the line. She shouts, "I guess I am just allergic to SOME people!"

After that, I had to kill myself. The approval of that sort of person....K. Grease can't live without it. So this is posted from Hell, my new home. And you will all live there, too unless the Democrats stop choosing candidates who win Chapel Hill by a lot, and lose North Carolina by more.