Saturday, January 28, 2006
Is there anything less appetizing than dead babies?
There might be, but I really don't want to know about it. The dead babies were bad enough. This afternoon at the library, I pulled into a space next to this old van, every last inch of which was covered with bumper stickers. You know the type. However, it wasn't until I parked that I happened to notice that the entire side of the van was plastered with stomach-turningly graphic pictures of aborted fetuses. Yeah.
It's not that I didn't still enjoy the cheeseburger and raspberry limeade cream slush that I got from Sonic, but I really think I might have gotten more pleasure out of it if I hadn't seen that first.
There might be, but I really don't want to know about it. The dead babies were bad enough. This afternoon at the library, I pulled into a space next to this old van, every last inch of which was covered with bumper stickers. You know the type. However, it wasn't until I parked that I happened to notice that the entire side of the van was plastered with stomach-turningly graphic pictures of aborted fetuses. Yeah.
It's not that I didn't still enjoy the cheeseburger and raspberry limeade cream slush that I got from Sonic, but I really think I might have gotten more pleasure out of it if I hadn't seen that first.
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