"Carrie Nation was yet another colorful character from the west. She gained a reputation in her later years as a hatchet carrying crusader. As a firm believer that alcohol and gambling were not only sinful, but destructive to our society, she took it on herself to do something about those things. ..."
"Good Morning Destroyers of Men's Souls!" This was a favorite greeting of Carrie Nation to saloon owners in Kansas. When her polite actions did not persuade the heathens of Kansas to mend their ways, she used her hatchet to destroy saloons and scare the holy bejeezus out of the proprietors and patrons of the offending establishments. This is just one of the reasons I love her.
Carrie Nation is my idol. She is from Kansas (sort of). I am from Kansas. The similarities do not stop there. We look a little bit alike don't you think? Maybe we are related. It is possible. It is said that Carrie Nation's Mother had delusions of being Queen Victoria, further evidence of a possible genetic link. There is also the hatchet. I LOVE the hatchet.
I have decided to pick up where Carrie Nation left off. Instead of the Women's Christian Temperance Union, (I am not a hypocrite, after all) I am forming a new organization, The Women's Bitchtian ill-Temperament Union. I am on a mission to wipe out stupidity. I will be a militant crusader, wielding an ax and a copy of the Annus Mirabilis Papers. I have come to carry out hatchetations in the name of Albert Einstein, for the good of America and all her citizens. Well, if nothing else, just to make myself feel better.
Who is first on my list? The cashier in the express lane at the Winn-Dixie. If you are the cashier at the Winn-Dixie. In the express lane. And you see a grimacing woman in line, clutching an economy size bottle of Pamprin, a forty count box of super absorbent tampons and three (count them three!) pints of ice cream, it is stupid of you to pick this particular juncture to discuss Monday Night Football and the stellar performance of your beloved Dallas Cowboys. Stupid, I tell you! This behavior will get your cable box hatchinated. You deserve it.
If you are a Vice Presidential candidate who believes that the ability to see Russia from your moose stand in Alaska somehow qualifies as experience in foreign affairs. You are stupid. Your NRA membership card is getting the ax.
You, yes you, Mr. I am too cheap to rent a U-Haul. When transporting your belongings to your new doublewide. It is not smart to lay on top of the king size mattress set in the back of your pick-up truck. Your efforts to secure the Sealy Posturepedic while your wife floors it down the interstate at 70 miles per hour are stupid. I am positive after seeing the look on her face that she was saying silent prayers that your dumb ass would fly out of the truck. I think the only thing that would have made her sad is the thought of buying a new mattress. I would hatchinate you, but I am pretty sure you are already dead.
To the church lady who came to my office today, I understand that you were hopeful that Fussy and Bitchy Inc. would generously donate their interest in a parcel of land adjacent to your church which would have allowed the snake kissing members of your congregation to hold tent revivals every weekend. Hope, as they say springs eternal. Sorry,we are not generous. You are stupid. The snakes will feel the wrath. Chop...Chop...
To the bank teller at the most inconvenient bank in the world, I only use your services because I am too lazy to transfer my accounts. I am warning you. Do not ever ask me again how I am doing. EVER! You can clearly see the shrinking balances of those accounts. How in the hell do you think I am doing? You are stupid. No, I will not have a nice day! P.S. You will not either when your intercom system is faced with the business end of the hatchinator.
To the idiot who left your venti, triple shot, no whip, skinny, vanilla latte, on the roof of your car then nearly wrecked due to temporary blindness and heart failure induced by the mistaken impression that a pterodactyl sized bird must have shat on the windshield when you drove away...Oh, wait, that was me.