Well, I almost got thrown out of City Hall today. I went there to file a document with the city of NY for permission to hold a Christian ONLY parade and the clerk's office is just down the hallway from the mens and womens rooms.
As I finished, I heard a young boy of probably 8 or 9 years of age shouting to his mother, "Mom! I need to go wee wee." What? At that age I knew how to say you're a nation and wasn't expected to declare it to the world. What happened next is the sign that our world is doomed for hell. The mother looked at him and said in a super saccharine voice, "Okay, sweetie weetie. Hold your tinkle for Mommy just a second." She then took his hand and led him to the ladies room door. He broke free. "MOM!," he screamed. "I can go to the boy's room." But she wouldn't allow it even though I stood holding the door open for him. She again grabbed his hand and forced him in the women's room.
I was aghast. Had I entered a ladies room at that age, my mother would have slapped me six sides to Sunday and back again. I went in mens rooms and even washed my hands. And I LEARNED from the experience. For example, I would never have known that some men need someone to hold their um - organ - while they go and I would have never known that it was a secret that one shouldn't tell parents about. How will this youngster learn this if his mother continues to feminize him? I felt so strongly about this I waited until they emerged and really laid into her. At the top of my lungs, I told her that she should be ashamed for turning her son into a little girl and she should be shunned from decent society for allowing her boy to witness the horrors of a ladies room.
I told her if our paths ever crossed again and her son needed supervision that I would be more than happy to help but at his age he should be able to go to the bathroom on his own. I mean, what is she afraid of? Monsters? There are no monsters. Ghosts? There are no ghosts - save the Holy Ghost. So she called security and they escorted me to another part of the building. They didn't tell me I had to leave - I did so willingly. When I told security my side of the story, the men laughed and said, "You should mind your own business, brother." Hmph.
"First," I said, "You aren't my brother unless you're a Christian. Are you?"
"Nope."
"Then take your sinful hands off me and go keep people safe."
And they did.
This really burned my britches, though.
As I finished, I heard a young boy of probably 8 or 9 years of age shouting to his mother, "Mom! I need to go wee wee." What? At that age I knew how to say you're a nation and wasn't expected to declare it to the world. What happened next is the sign that our world is doomed for hell. The mother looked at him and said in a super saccharine voice, "Okay, sweetie weetie. Hold your tinkle for Mommy just a second." She then took his hand and led him to the ladies room door. He broke free. "MOM!," he screamed. "I can go to the boy's room." But she wouldn't allow it even though I stood holding the door open for him. She again grabbed his hand and forced him in the women's room.
I was aghast. Had I entered a ladies room at that age, my mother would have slapped me six sides to Sunday and back again. I went in mens rooms and even washed my hands. And I LEARNED from the experience. For example, I would never have known that some men need someone to hold their um - organ - while they go and I would have never known that it was a secret that one shouldn't tell parents about. How will this youngster learn this if his mother continues to feminize him? I felt so strongly about this I waited until they emerged and really laid into her. At the top of my lungs, I told her that she should be ashamed for turning her son into a little girl and she should be shunned from decent society for allowing her boy to witness the horrors of a ladies room.
I told her if our paths ever crossed again and her son needed supervision that I would be more than happy to help but at his age he should be able to go to the bathroom on his own. I mean, what is she afraid of? Monsters? There are no monsters. Ghosts? There are no ghosts - save the Holy Ghost. So she called security and they escorted me to another part of the building. They didn't tell me I had to leave - I did so willingly. When I told security my side of the story, the men laughed and said, "You should mind your own business, brother." Hmph.
"First," I said, "You aren't my brother unless you're a Christian. Are you?"
"Nope."
"Then take your sinful hands off me and go keep people safe."
And they did.
This really burned my britches, though.
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