I live in an upstairs apartment, so the threat of being fried by a lightning bolt coming through the bathroom window was very real. I felt like a true warrior, taking a meaningful risk for a meaningful cause. I listened to Terry Gross, clipped my nails to make them look pretty and drank cinnamon coffee, with determination. The cry of the savage man is nothing but the cry of the satisfied man, free from the effete double-talk and emasculating shackles of society.
Ted Nugent shoots animals. A four-year-old boy who likes to wrestle his teddy-bear might be impressed by that. I showered in the middle of a thunderstorm after having a salad with cranberry vinaigrette dressing and ice cream for dinner. Unless that 4-year-old boy has met me, he has yet to meet a man.
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