I knows my rhats and this is in that thar Constitution, right next to where it says my food stamps cain’t be late.
That little old lady checkin’ receipts, she’s a jack booted thug for reals. She best not mess with me cause I took both semesters of Karate-by-mail.
All them sheeple a’standin’ in line, why I blows right by ‘em like it was Thunder Road. I have important things to do, like plug the oil leak in the Chevy.
The po-lice know I’m one not to be trifled with. I keep the little card from the back of the comic book what has all my rights listed right there. If I ever get my driver’s license back, I’ll show ‘em.
All the fat girls down to the Wal-Mart thinks I’m a hero. They winks and shakes their booty at me.
Down at the trailer park, I’m a hero there too. I sees ‘em whisperin’ and a’pointin’. I know that they’re talking about how I’m the hero of the whole trailer park.
I’m just awesome, ain’t no doubt about it.
I’m a genuine hero of the revolution.
Or I could just be an asshole.
There is a difference between voluntarity submitting to a search, and a search being force.
I choose to not be searched. Period.
If you think that is unreasonable, well, too bad.
/johnny