I’m too old to leave but I’ll never vote again. Hole up in my “compound” with my guns and wife and wait for them to come get me, I guess.
“I’m too old to leave but I’ll never vote again. Hole up in my “compound” with my guns and wife and wait for them to come get me, I guess.”
There’s really no where else to go. This was the last land of freedom.
Ditto, we went Galt and are just waiting, ready for the revolution after the financial collapse.