To Matt Bohrs, Upon Learning You’re Right and I’m Wrong
The problem is, no one asked for your opinion.
That’s the problem with America, isn’t it?
Nobody asks for your opinion, you feel free to mouth off and shove it down our throats.
Ever since this Internet thing happened, with Facebook, any asshole with an opinion could share, whether they’re qualified or not.
In my day we had to march in the streets to make our voices heard and then my Uncle Clifford would mouth off about how unpatriotic assholes like me, with our long hair and hippie beads, were ruining America and between us, and MLK, and the other lazy ungrateful (I would use the word if this were a direct quote, but it’s not and it offends white people when I use it in the correct context, although it doesn’t offend black people, who, aware of the historical context, know goddam well why I would feel it was appropriate to use in this context) not to mention the Mexicans and then he would tell a joke about 99 n_____s and a Mexican to grease the machine.
Come to think of it, there have always been Uncle Clifford’s in every family, and I recall a story about two Congressmen coming to blows on the floor of the Congress in the 18th century. So maybe mouth off isn’t as new as I thought.
But I am right. There are times to keep your opinion to yourself.
Most of the time.
Like when you’re not asked.
That’s you, I mean.
I’m an American. I’m free to speak my mind whenever I damn well please.