The Department of Righteous Shootings

doG, how I do miss Kim duToit on days like these

so anyway, here's the deal. Some hoodlum wearing a ski mask walks into a Miami Burger King with a gun and places his special order: "Gimme an fcukin' Angry Whopper and all the fcukin' cash in the fcukin' register!" Another customer, Our Hero, who just happened to bring his own gun along, because he has a legal concealed weapons permit (or to put it otherwise: "Shut up, that's why") trades shots with the hoodlum, on principle.

End result? The hoodlum has assumed room temperature, Our Hero is in serious, but stable condition as I type this on the inter-web net-tubes thingies.

If you're the praying type, please include Our Hero in your prayers.

The comments on the Miami Herald piece are heartening. I had expected a lot of panty-waisted wankers exploring what drove the hoodlum to such a degree of desperation that he had no other choice but to commit armed robbery and sacrificed his life because of the oppression of TheMan. Au contrair, the commentary that I've read runs more along the lines of "bad guy dead=good; all the best to Our Hero".

I'm sure I've mentioned this in the past, I haven't the time to search through the past (almost) five years of blogging, but isn't it curious that every time there's some serious gun-grabbing siht going on, we get a rash of these kind of stories? Just sayin', that's all.

we'll have words again soon