Dear NRA pig fuckers. Please, please call your representative and insist on our constitutional right to carry guns on any cruise lines visiting US ports.

The NRA hates to see this wasted opportunity for massive use of guns, bullets and gun accessories on the Carnival Cruise Ship. Cruise ships may be the UN's first wave of attack and its our Constitutional right to defend ourself.

Yawn. Your trolling bores me.

unoriginal content Wrote:
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> Yawn. Your trolling bores me.

Not me. I think it's pretty damn funny. Keep it up!

fuckin stupid

Wayne LaPierre Wrote:
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> Dear NRA pig fuckers. Please, please call your
> representative and insist on our constitutional
> right to carry guns on any cruise lines visiting
> US ports.
>
> The NRA hates to see this wasted opportunity for
> massive use of guns, bullets and gun accessories
> on the Carnival Cruise Ship. Cruise ships may be
> the UN's first wave of attack and its our
> Constitutional right to defend ourself.

That's stupid.

Of course they're coming by sea. And just like 200 years ago, our citizen militia will fight them off!!! All hail Wayne LaPierre!

A few excerpts from Longfellow's "Paul Revere's Ride":

Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, “If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,–
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm.”

Then he said “Good-night!” and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.
*************
You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,—
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,—
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.