Apparently, this is George Clinton’s DNA; I don’t think you or I are funky enough to have major AND a minor groove in all of our cell nuclei.Via.
In my ongoing quest to get disinvited from all future family reunions, I’ve started responding to moronic things that relations post on line. If you know anything about my family, you’re probably thinking that I’ll need to take a sabbatical from work for a while if this hobby is going to continue.
Today’s idiocy comes from a first cousin, with a special guest appearance from my older brother (they are anonymized in red and yellow, respectively. Behold!
Logic is your friend. Well, my friend, anyway.
Not to defend the person in the original accusation–if indeed that is true, and I’m betting it’s not–but I just don’t get the goddamn mental disconnect here. Then again, there’s a lot about zealots that I don’t understand.
I fully expect to be de-friended by almost all family members by election day. I can only imagine that I will cry myself to sleep every night after that happens. Anyway, my current working theory is that I was switched with another baby in the hospital when I was an infant; there’s pretty much no other way to explain how I have so little in common with so much of my family.
One final note: Of all my relatives that I know are conservative, pro-war, pro-gun, and (so they assume) pro-military, precisely zero of them were in any branch of the armed forces. The two of us who are liberal (myself and my younger brother) both did hitches as enlisted folks. Make of that what you will.