All right, first of all, I’ll wait for all the heads to finish exploding over a Texas school celebrating “Multi-Cultural Day.”
OK, then. Next, I will remind you that Jenny, The Bloggess, is my dear friend and that I invented the acronym PFNFNDHTIN (pee first, no food, no drinks, have tissues and inhaler nearby) to rate her humor and caution people before they read it. I’ll wait.
Finally, if you do not follow The Bloggess — and if you don’t, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM? — let me fill in some relevant biographical details. She was born and raised in Texas and still lives there with her husband, Victor, and five-year-old daughter, Hailey. Her father is a taxidermist. When she went back home to her parents’ house for Independence Day in 2009, the CANNON in her father’s yard was so unremarkable in its milieu that she did not notice it UNTIL HE FIRED IT AS PART OF THE EVENING’S FESTIVITIES. Also, she killed a bear when she was only three. No, wait, that was Daniel Boone. Now, I remember — the Bloggess knew how to fire a rifle by the time she was five.
OK, do you have some sense of dear Jenny, The Bloggess now? And you’ve PFNFNDHTIN?
Then you are cleared to learn what The Bloggess brought to her daughter’s school to celebrate Multi-Cultural Day.
I’ll wait for all the heads to finish exploding over a Texas school celebrating “Multi-Cultural Day.”
That’s not surprising, actually. One, she’s in the Houston area, and that’s about as multicultural as you’ll get in Texas. Two, elementary school teachers seem to be taught along the same lines in most places. Three, one of the largest schools in Texas is in Austin, and Austin is moonbat central of Texas, and I’m pretty sure they believe they are in the forefront of multiculturalism.
As I recall, one of the Bush girls got turned over to the cops for attempting to purchase booze underage at a restaurant. No bartender or wait staff I know would do that. Refuse service, or throw them out of the bar, sure. But call the cops? only a moonbat with an axe to grind would do that.
I used to always carry a box in my county cruiser of things that, while not required, were handy. A few dozen of those little packets of crackers was an important part, I would run into a diabetic going hypoglycemic often and, far too often, people who were just plain hungry.
So I was the cracker cop.
That whole family seem like folks I’d like to have over for dinner.
Amazing. I love this – so brilliant! I’m in the process of beginning my move from NYC to Houston (Goodbye joke of a state government! Au revoir Nanny Bloomberg! Good riddance insane taxes! Todaloo Obots! NO THANKS KSM trial enablers!) And this hilarious little post makes me even more excited about my move to a town that’s home to such a fantastically funny woman.