Annie woke up one morning with a start, a sense of foreboding, downright dread. She realized she was in danger. She had been living without “protection.” We are of course talking about her constitutionally enshrined right to “protection.”
I mean really, every woman should have a right to “protection,” right? What would she do if a man entered? An unwanted man, maybe one who seemed nice at the
bar door, but once “in the house” decided he owned it, if you know what I mean. And he was going to make himself at home or else rearrange the “furniture” to his liking.
Maybe he seemed nice at dinner, but after watching him with a steak knife, well, it’s enough to make you go vegan.
So she made her mind up, she was gonna get some protection. And ain’t that her right? I mean, we’re not talking about some theoretical “right to privacy.” There’s no actual amendment that says the government doesn’t have any business in your business, but when it comes to protection, it’s right there in it’s own Second Amendment. Okay, maybe it don’t say “protection”. Potato, po-tah-to.
So she went on down to the local shop thinkin’ she could walk away with some protection. But they told her, “Maybe you want to think about this, you might change your mind.”
“You know,” they continued, “you might cock block a man with that kind of protection.”
“That’s exactly why I want it!” she replied. “It’s ’cause you can cock block a man with this protection that I want it, even from a hundred paces if yer good.”
“How the hell???” thought the merchant.
“Are you sure you know how to use these things? Maybe we should look into your ‘background’ or make sure you’re ‘well trained’ as the saying goes,” they told her.
“This is such a big decision,” they explained. “If you use that protection, someone might not be alive afterwards.”
Annie looked ’em square in the eye and said, “I believe I still have the personal right in these free United States to make that decision.”
Annie had had enough of these yokels who were standing in the way of her ability to protect herself. So she stormed out the shop and headed straight to the one place where she was certain to find the protection she needed. The local “protection” show.
So in the end, Annie road off into the sunset with her “protection” in hand thanks to that good ole Constitution. If only that Constitution could guarantee our rights to a few more things, Annie wouldn’t have to deal with morons anymore.
–Hank (Rootin’ Tootin’) Griffin