My daDDy he likes to p**s-off gun nuts. He posts comments in their discussions on Farcebook and sits back to watch them get all frothy and brainsmackered. Then he lets it go and never replies.

Heez like that, but in purrson he ain't like that at all.

One nite he wuz in a resteraunt sitting at the bar eatin hiz dinner and a guy he knows sits next to him and aftur a while that guy shows him that heez got a pistola in a holster under hiz coat on hiz belt. The guy sed, "I have a carry and conceal license."

My daDDy he sed, "Yew can't bring a firearm into any establishment that serves alkyhol."

The guy shakes hiz head and doesn't answer.

My daDDy he looked at the guy and sed, "Yew better take it out to your car."

The guy sed, "Hell no."

So my daDDy sed to him one more time, "Take it out."

The guy dint do it.

My daDDy he got up and found the manager and told him and they came and asked the man to leave.

The guy left.

Do you think my daDDy was scared when he left the resteraunt that the guy would be waiting fer him?

Hell no.

My daDDy ain't scared of no gun-totin fool.

Besides, I'm watchin over him.