Like any normal man I hate my children. Truth be told, hardly a day goes by that I don’t fantasize about going back in time, jabbing a shop-vac into my wife’s baby-maker and vacuuming out those little abominations before they get a chance to fully ruin our once happy lives.
But after last week’s attack at a Colorado abortion clinic, I’m already sick and tired of the liberal paroxysms of emotion on how those who died were selfless martyrs and heroes who perished defending freedom.
They died because they had the bad luck to cross paths with a lunatic. No larger lesson was learned and no higher ideals were served.
I don’t have a problem with abortions because I’m a bad person. If it was up to me, I’d put government funded abortion clinics in every poor neighborhood, partner with NASCAR to ensure a mobile scrape trailer is available at every race and even join with McDonald’s for some kind of customer loyalty program.
Maybe a free Happy Meal on what would have been your murdered kid’s birthday.
And spare me the nonsense about how abortion is anything other than a necessary evil. You advocate killing a baby because you don’t want to bother raising it. That’s ok. But you need to get off your little high horse and realize that if you’re pro-abortion, you’re no better than me, and I’m the second worst person I know.
And not to get off on a rant here, but how is abortion any different than throwing all the goddamned homeless people in the river and letting the rocks and current sort it out? I honestly can’t understand how one is legal and the other isn’t.