In Arizona, it will soon be legal to carry a concealed weapon, without a special permit.  I’m not exactly sure why they’ve decided that this is important, but I’m definitely changing the route of “Hopscotch Across America”, (I’m thinking a pledge of 10 cents per hop for any of you wishing to donate…donee TBD), to exclude the Copper State.  Isn’t it enough that I have to worry about Eyjafjallajokull’s plume of glass infused spew?  Now I’ll have to be extra vigilant on Southwest flights connecting through Phoenix so as not to piss off some deranged golfer who might reach into his plaid plus-fours and brandish a 45 to emphasize his objection to any tic in my behavior.  It could be that all of this talk about nuclear disarmament has got people worried that without the threat of atomic retaliation, the OK Corral route may be back in vogue as a defensive strategy.  For me, however, from my view way over here on the left, I’m hard pressed to find an instance wherein the firing of a weapon has lead to anything that shouldn’t be labeled as ‘tragic’.  A trigger gets pulled, a firing pin explodes a charge that releases a projectile killing or wounding a person or an animal, (hostile or friendly), damaging some property or putting a hole in an Olympic target.  (Some may argue against the tragedy label on this last example, but ‘biathalon’, really?  Tres tragique).  Oh, and I’ve been to Texas and seen first hand the shotgun-on-pick-up-rack culture, but those firearms are not only too big to stick in your pants, they’re obviously a substitute for what’s not in there to begin with.  Hey, maybe the whole gun thing is all about penile envy and inadequacy.  That’s probably why the GUNS-FOR-CASH campaign had so little impact.  But, GUNS-FOR-DILDOES-OR-THAT-MAKE-YOUR-DICK-BIGGER-CREAM…?  I wonder if Sinful Pleasures is traded publicly?