Pose the following question: You're walking down a deserted street with your wife and two small children. Suddenly, a dangerous looking man with a wild look in his eyes; and a huge knife in his hand comes around the corner, locks eyes with you, screams obscenities, raises the knife, and charges. You are carrying a Glock 40, and you are an expert shot. You have mere seconds before he reaches you and your family. What do you do?
Democrats: Well, that's not enough information to answer the question! Does the man look poor or oppressed? Have I ever done anything to him that would inspire him to attack? Could we run away? What does my wife think? What about the kids? Could I possibly swing the gun like a club and knock the knife out of his hand? What does the law say about this situation?
What would the ACLU say? Does the Glock have appropriate safety built into it? Why am I carrying a loaded gun anyway, and what kind of message does this send to society and to my children? Is it possible he'd be happy with just killing me? Does he definitely want to kill me, or would he be content just to wound me? If I were to grab his knees and hold on, could my family get away while he was stabbing me? Should I call 9-1-1? Why is this street so deserted? We need to raise taxes, have a paint and weed day and make this a happier, healthier street that would discourage such behavior.
Exclaims the daughter, "Nice grouping, Daddy! Were those the Winchester Silver Tips or Black Talon Hollow Points??"
Some of these may not be true .....
Working in Arkansas, I crossed the line and went to an Oklahoma bar. The bartender asked if I had a gun or knife. I told him I didn't, so he showed me the box and told me to help myself.
Saturday nights in Oklahoma are not successful unless you get drunk and steal something.
Do you know what foreplay in Oklahoma is? Get in the truck bitch.
You Know You're From Oklahoma When...
Bedlam is a BIG deal.
When you drive through a neighborhood anyone out walking will smile and wave at you.
You thought the twister ride at Universal Studios wasn't windy enough.
You know who your neighbors are, how many children they have, and when one of them gets married or graduates.
You are a Cowboy or Sooner fan.
You can properly pronounce Eufaula, Gotebo, Okemah and Chickasha.
It doesn't seem odd to see the term "chicken fried chicken" on a menu.
It doesn't seem peculiar if your sweetie says "I'm going in to town for something" even though you live in town.
Your quarterback is hurt and it is the top story on the six o'clock news.
You go to the State Fair for your only vacation.
You get up at 5:30 A.M. and go to the coffee shop, where the waitress never asks what you would like. She already knows.
You can drive 80 mph on a two-lane dirt road with one hand, but driving 45 mph on a four-lane expressway in a city scares you to death.
Your nearest neighbor is in the next zip code.
You wear cowboy boots to church.
You learned how to shoot a gun before you learned how to multiply.
You are 100% Okie if...
You have owned at least one belt buckle bigger than your fist.
It doesn't bother you to use an airport named for a man who died in an airplane crash.
You use the phrase "fixin' to" almost daily.
Someone you know has used a football schedule to plan their wedding date.
You've ever been excused from school because "the cows got out."
You can properly pronounce the towns Washita and Tahlequah.
You can remember the name of the last state legislator to introduce a bill involving castration and he didn't mean farm animals.
You know exactly what calf fries are, and eat them anyway.
You can recall hot summers by the year they happened easier than you can remember your mother's birthday.
You think that people who complain about the wind in their states are sissies.
You know that the true value of a parking space is not determined by the distance to the door but by the availability of shade.
A bad traffic jam involves two cars staring each other down at a four-way stop, each determined to be the most polite and let the other one go first.
When you hear a tornado siren, you go out and look for a funnel.
Your "place at the lake" has wheels under it.
A Mercedes Benz is not a status symbol. A Ford F350 4x4 is.
You know that everything goes better with Ranch or Tabasco.
You learned how to shoot a gun before you learned how to multiply.
You are 100% Okie if you have ever had this conversation: "You wanna Coke?" "Yeah." "What kind?" "Dr. Pepper."
Survivor, Oklahoma Style
CBS is developing an Oklahoma version of "Survivor," the popular reality television show. Contestants must travel from Tulsa through Ponca City, Enid, Woodward, Elk City, and back to Tulsa through Lawton, Oklahoma City, Ardmore, McAlester and Muskogee, driving a Volvo with a sign on both doors that reads: I'm a gay vegetarian Democrat and I'm here to take your guns. The first to complete the round trip alive is the winner. Applications can be picked up at the Department of Transportation in Oklahoma City.
If nobody told you
Texans have always been famous for their exaggerations (lies)
This is my belt buckle, I won it in a rodeo.
Thats my pickup I bought it brand new.
Honest officer I was only helping the goat over the fence!
and
Their attempts at ass kickins.
Once, there were twelve Texans fishing the Red River.
When a lone Okie on the other side started flippin' them off then mooned them and in various ways started disparaging their heritage.
The Texans, of course, decided that they would just HAVE to kick his ass.
One semi-honorable Texan, considering the odds, decided that maybe only half of them were needed to open a can of Whoop Ass and should cross the Red.
As six of them crossed to the Oklahoma side, the Okie ran in behind a pile of brush.
The Texans, as everyone knew they would, chased after.
The remaining Texans proceeded to sit down and await the outcome.
After several minutes of wranglin' on the other side, the dust cloud settled, the fracas was over and there was SILENCE.
They waited quite awhile for their buddies to come back and give the details of the ass kickin' before they decided to cross the Red themselves to see what was going on.
About half way across the Red, one of the Texans came runnin' from behind the brush pile, back across the Red. . .HOLLERIN'. . .
STOP! STOP! GO BACK! IT'S A TRAP.
THERE'S TWO OF THEM.
Like it or not, the new White House will be in Crawford, Texas and soon will be drawing a number of people to the state, including many who are not used to Texas ways. They might find the following advice useful.
Do Not Dare to tell us how to cook barbecue. This will get your ass shot (right after it is kicked). Criticize the barbecue and you may go home in a pine box-minus your ass.
Don't expect to find filet mignon or pasta primavera at the local restaurant. It's a cafe. They serve hamburgers and chicken fried steak. Let them cook something they know. If you confuse them, they'll kick your ass.
Don't laugh at the names (Merleen, Bodie, Bubba, Bobby Ray, Curley, Tammy Lynn, Billy Joe, Sissy, Clovis, etc.). Or we will HAVE to kick your ass.
We know our heritage. Most of us are more literate than you (read some J. Frank Dobie). We are also better educated and generally a lot nicer than you. Don't refer to us as a bunch of cowboy hicks, or we'll kick your ass.
We have plenty of business sense (e.g., Howard Hughes, H. Ross Perot, Southwest Airlines, Dell computers). Naturally, sometimes we have small lapses in judgment (e.g., LBJ). However, we are not dumb enough to let someone move to our state just so they can run for the US Senate. If anyone tried to do that they would get a serious ass kickin'.
Don't laugh at our Civil War monuments. If Lee had listened to Gen. Hood you'd be paying taxes to Richmond instead of Washington. If you visit the Alamo, take your hat off and be properly humble, or we'll kick your ass.
We are fully aware of how hot it gets and how high the humidity is, so shut up about it. If you can't stand the heat get out of the kitchen, or we'll kick your ass.
Do not attempt to eat tamales without first removing their corn husk casing. Everyone will instantly know that you're a Yankee. DO NOT, under any circumstances, complain that the chili is TOO hot or contains no kidney beans, this will get your ass kicked into next week.
Don't talk about how much better things are at home because we know they are not. Many of us have visited Northern hell-holes like Detroit, Chicago, and DC, and we have the scars to prove it. If you don't like it here, Delta is ready when you are. Move your ass on home - before we kick it.
Yes, we know how to speak proper English. We talk this way because we don't want to sound like you. We don't care if you don't understand what we are saying. All other Texans understand what we are saying and that's all that matters. Now, go away, or we'll kick your ass.
Don't complain that certain areas of this state "smell" of oil. If your livelihood depended on those wells you'd soon learn to love the aroma. Besides, none of OUR lakes or rivers have caught fire recently. If you whine about OUR scenic beauty, we'll kick your ass all the way back to Pittsburgh, PA.
Don't ridicule our Texas manners We say sir and ma'am. We hold doors open for others. We offer our seats to old folks. Such things are expected of civilized people. Behave yourselves around our sweet little gray-haired grandmothers, or they'll kick your ass-just like they did ours.
Don't think we're quaint or losers because most of us live in small towns. We do this because we have enough sense to not live in crime infested cesspools like Baltimore. Make fun of our small towns and we'll kick your ass.
Remember, the only reason you are lucky enough to be here in the first place is because we have not pulled the Border Patrol off the Rio Grande and put them on the Red River (where they really belong) to keep your ass out.
