I'm not going to get you started, I promised.
Fine. You may be thankful that twenty years from now when you are sitting by the fireplace with your grandson on your knee and he asks you what you did in the great War against the leftist gun grabbers, you WON’T have to cough, shift him to the other knee and say, “Well, your Granddaddy shoveled shit in Arizona.†No, Sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say, “Son, your Granddaddy rode with the Son-of-a-Goddamned-Bitch named Wingnut!â€