Tuesday, October 20, 2009

A Mattel commercial you'll never see again...

and what harm did it do?

I played cops and robbers and cowboys and indians with my buddy nextdoor, Raymond, and Philip down the street. We all had toy guns. I wore a cowgirl outfit (after I decided I didn't want to be a cowboy). Mom made it for me. I had my six shooter in a black gunbelt, and wooden bullets and caps. I loved cap guns. Did it make me a criminal? NO! A depraved stalker? NO!
A mass murderer? NO.

And in the winter, we had snowball fights, targeting torsos and heads. Awful, huh? Nicky up the street was expert in iceballs, and was so poor, he never had mittens or gloves, and his hands were all red and stiff with cold. Did that stop him? NO!

Did we fight each other? Did it encourage aggression toward girls? NO!

Our mothers were home. We'd come in wet and cold and the kitchen would be warm and steamy and she'd have hot chocolate and marshmallows ready for us. And usually, cake.

We grew up just fine and pretty much well adjusted.

None of us spent time in jail.

Bring back the toy guns and send the hardass liberals (how many of them have concealed weapon permits or carry anyway) away to an island where they can use treadle sewing machines to make each other clothing.

Denny Crane for President!





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