Things not to do so that you don’t get shot dead by some wacko packing heat.

I’m compiling a list, so I may have to revisit this post as the list seems to keep growing.  Fancy that.

Things not to do so you don’t get shot by a psycho, wacko person carrying a gun:

1.  Don’t text in a movie theater.  Ever.  Even if it’s BEFORE the movie starts with the lights still on and people still finding their seats.

2.  Don’t walk down a street carrying a package of Skittles and a Gatorade.  (At least I think it was a Gatorade.  I’m sure about the Skittles though, cause I thought to myself “Oh thank goodness, I don’t ever eat Skittles.”)

3.  Don’t sit in your vehicle at the gas station with the music from the radio on too loud.  NOTE:  “too loud” is relative as what may be “too loud” for you may not be “too loud” for others, so I just am not sure how to quantify this one.

4.  Don’t answer the door holding a Wii remote in your hand. Especially if the person at the door is a policewoman there to serve your papa with an arrest warrant.  Cause, you know, a Wii remote looks so much like a…wait for it…G-U-N.

5.  Don’t be black.  I mean African-American.  And really, this should probably just be implied, right?

***So.  Also, too.  Don’t wear a hoody.  Don’t listen to whatever music was deemed too loud by the psycho white man in Florida who says he felt threatened and needed to shoot up the SUV parked next to him.  Don’t have a papa, I guess, who is being served with an arrest warrant.

I don’t know the race of the man shot dead because he was texting his daughter/daughter’s babysitter before the movie started, but what do you want to bet he was not white?

And all of this begs the question:  Now do you see why I’m concerned about the dude in black at the Starbucks in Cheyenne?  Who is now sitting inside as it’s wintertime and too cold for him to sit out front announcing his scary-ass presence to any and all stopping in for a cup of java.  And, get this, he’s wearing his shades!  Inside.  On cloudy, winter, blizzard days.  Dude, this dude just ain’t right.  And you can bet your bottom bippy, or your bottom dollar as Annie belts out, I ain’t lookin’ anywhere close to him as I walk on by.  I look everywhere but at him.  He scares the living daylights out of me.

Course, he must not scare me enough to stay away from coffee nirvana.

Maybe I should just stick to posts about animal visitors and fluffy white stuff and so on and so forth.  Cause the rest of the stuff is such a downer.

Vaya con dios mi amigos.  It’s pretty much all we got left.

About madranchwife

Mother, Mad Ranchwife(as in--at times-- crazy, nutso, loco, off-my-rocker insane), Veterinarian, Physical Therapist, "Liberal, pinko, gay-loving, Subaru-driving Socialist" (as I've been called), proud to be a totally tree-huggin', climate change believin', granola girl environmentalist, ObamaGirl, Pro-Choice (don't even get me started here...), and in my younger days a feminist vegetarian as a result of time spent at CU Boulder (this lasted approximately 14 months, until all the Jimmy Buffett I was listening to caused me to crave a cheeseburger). Now I just get pleasure out of swimming against the stream and ruffling a few feathers here in the wild west state of Wyoming!
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