Talking to gun nuts is like talking Dexter (my dog); they can tell you're talking, but they only recognize a small number of words and react accordingly before humping my leg.
|In all fairness, those things the gubmint has were made by the lowest bidder so...|
Heading up to Monterey for awHile. If you've never been to Monterey, you should add it to your bucket list.
I never visited Monterey with my dad. And yet, the closest I ever feel to him is when I sit in Monterey, on any beach on the peninsula, toes in the sand just... being. I can smell him in the sea air, feel his arms around me as the fog rolls in, when the waves crash. I've been to his graveside once since his funeral. He wasn't there.
I swear his soul decided, fuck it, I couldn't afford to live here when I was alive but you bitches can't stop me now! Lucky bastard.
Okay, no more giving a shit today.