Guns don't almost kill people. Veeps almost kill people.

I’m putting my shotgun in the closet. I’d hate like hell to be Cheneyed.

Think about it. It might not be too long before you hear people saying this:

“Hey, watch it with that gun asshole. What are you trying to do, Cheney me?”

Being “Cheneyed” or “Don’t Cheney me” may be part of the language someday. It’s unfortunate enough that the vice (no comment) president shot his 78-year-old friend while hunting quail on a South Texas ranch. Now I hear the victim, Austin attorney Harry Whittington, suffered a heart attack from some of the birdshot that lodged in his heart. Damn. I guess being perceived as a modern-day Darth Vader when it comes to starting wars and endangering civil liberties isn’t enough for Dick Cheney. He must, honest-to-God, want to be another Aaron Burr. I wonder if a treason trial is in his future like Burr’s? It could happen, given the suspicions about his alleged role in the CIA leak case. It could happen when pigs fly in a frozen hell.

I was working this afternoon and didn’t have a chance to check out the latest news on the ‘net until I watched the network news on TV just a few minutes ago. That’s when I heard about Whittington having a heart attack because the vice president shot him. Damn, I leave the world an hour or so and the whole damn operation falls apart! This is pretty danged surreal.

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