You Know What's Fun?

Moderated comments.

Anyone who knows me, here or on the various sites where I spend time and thus debate (because if I'm spending time somewhere, I'm debating. It's a fact.) knows that I'm always up for a good debate. I love them. I live for that shit.

However

If you comment starts with "God says," or any variation thereof I probably won't care.

If your comment contains a screed in defense of FOX, I will mock you. And you will deserve it.

If you simply disagree with me I will research your point of view or point out the many, many ways in which you are wrong.

All of these comments will get published. Like I said, I love to debate.

What won't get published is this:

"I don't want to argue with you about this. I'm just expressing my opinion."

Hey moron. IT'S MY BLOG. If you just want to drop your opinion and do a runner get your own fucking blog.

You know what else is fun?

The democratic process.

This is what I did with my Saturday.




That's how I make my point; standing in the rain, getting screamed at and hated on by idiots because it matters. Somebody had to say no to these people. Their speaker is a hate monger who lies for a living.

It was just us out there in no small part because there had been rumors that they were going to change the venue or cancel the event and I didn't want to get a bunch of people together for nothing.

The Mrs. carried these two:




and



I carried this one in case you can't read it above.




Yes we got yelled at but you know what? Those people are fucking cowards. One woman, one had the courage to come up and talk to us. She was wrong and she didn't stay long enough to do much more than state her position, take our picture and bail but at least she didn't drive by in her car and shout.

That was the funniest thing. People would creep past us, accelerate slightly and then roll down their windows and scream.

Cowards.