GB Accosted by Palin-Americans

It's was an odd weekend.

First, a lady flips her shit because I have to look at her husband's peener, and possible touch it. Did I mention that both the patient and the wife are in their 70's? Did I also mention that this was part of my physical assessment that I do to all my patients, especially if they have a foley catheter? It did no use explaining why I needed to do it, the old lady is batshit crazy. She's insanely jealous and thinks us young, cute (and a couple pregnant) nurses are after her man. Her old, wrinkly, coughing, wheezing, confused man. At least I wasn't the poor nurse who had to place the catheter in the first place. I'm told the wife went off the deep end and called that nurse every name in the book. The daughter-in-law assures us that she has been called the same names as well.

Secondly, I was on my way home from work this morning when I realized I needed gas in the tank. So, I stop by QuikTrip. Just get gas and go home to my nice, comfy bed...maybe a delicious cup of decaf coffee before I do. I pull in, get a vacant pump, and do the routine gas-pump thing when and older gentleman on the other side of the pump engages me in conversation. Whatever. I'm in my scrubs, and most people deem nurses as safe to talk to.

He begins by talking about the weather, because what else is he going to talk to me about, besides his hemorrhoids, or some weird spot on his shoulder and would I take a look at it?

Being polite, I also respond in kind about the weather, because I really don't want to know about his hemorrhoids. Then it comes, completely out of left field, sounding like a question I would have got had I been on a speech and debate team in high school.

"What do you think about Pakistan blah, blah, blah. Afghanistan blah, blah, blah. And them wanting to put a mosque two blocks away from The World Trade Center?"

This, of course, is a loaded question. I am, after all, in Teabag Country. I think I would have preferred the hemorrhoids.

I shrug. State something to the effect that I don't care where they want to put their mosque. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Old Fart got all butthurt about it.

"It's a bunch of shit!" he exclaimed. I just stared at him, the corners of my mouth yearning to stretch upward in a big grin that can only precede me laughing hysterically at you for being retarded.

"I've been around the world and blah, blah, blah. And used to work blah, blah, blah. And I knew some of them and if you think they love you, you're out of your mind. Because they don't!" Then, he procded to stomp off to go get a donut and some coffee. Or some Ex-Lax because, obviously, he was full of shit.

Had I been on my A-game, I would have played along and agreed with him, and then taken him down the path that would have led him to scream out his fervor for Sarah Palin right there in the parking lot.

Truth be told, I really don't care about the location of a mosque, but I know the corn-holing, Palin-American, Teabag demographic is all butthurt over it. These fucktards, some of them high-ranking politicians, can't be bothered to learn the difference between a splinter group, and a mainstream religion.

Warren Jeffs married children off to pedophiles in the name of God, but that doesn't mean that the entire LDS church celebrates the deflowering of 13 year old girls by 60-something year old men after church on Sunday.

I'm convinced that the majority of the population are retarded, or as I like to refer to as, Palin-American. Those who use intellect and common sense to make their own decisions, not based on fear-mongering, are in the minority. Smart people, it would seem, are an endangered species.

This country was founded on religious freedom. Some people today would tout that, but only if that religion was Christian-based. Putting a mosque near Ground Zero is no more offensive than putting a Synagogue or a Buddhist temple or a Church of the Divine Orgasm in the same place.

I could get behind a Church of the Divine Orgasm. Orgy immediately following the potluck dinner on Wednesdays.