By Wyatt Earp | November 11, 2005
Looks like many of you need a-learnin’, and I’m ready to dispense with some steaming hot bowls of knowledge. It has been a fine turnout this time around, including some fresh new faces to go with the regulars. And away we go . . .
CUG asks, “Does PA and Philly recognize other states’ concealed carry permits? If not, why the hell not?“
Jimmy, I believe that Pennsylvania recognizes them, but Philly – being such a cluster-boink of Democratic “leadership” – allows folks to carry any weapon that cannot be concealed. For example, AK-47’s are fine and dandy, but don’t let us catch you with a .22 snub nose. That would be cause for a brutal beating.
CUG then asks, “Are we allowed to shoot hippies in Philly to protect freedom and the country?“
Jimmy, according to the Philadelphia City Charter, it is legal to shoot any man whose hair goes below the shoulder. The “Mullet Rule” was established in 1865, when some Confederate soldiers attempted to sneak into town. They were shot on sight.
Dr. Phat Tony asks, “Does a burglar have to have a weapon in Philly for you to beat him to death with a garden tool if you find him in your home?“
Doc, according to the Pennsylvania Crimes Code, a resident may use lethal force to protect life and property if equal force is met. For example, if Jimmy the Scumbag forces his way into your home at knifepoint, you can pretty much shoot him in the face. If you decide to beat a burglar to death with a garden tool, however, may I suggest the Garden Weasel? I hear it is highly recommended by James Whitmore.
Yoshiko Karasuma (aka Pandy) asks, “I’ll ask Dear Earpy if it is okay for me to go topless in Philly? Out and about, so to speak?“
Yoshiko, are we talking pre-bump boobies, or post-bump (read: enlarged) boobies? Ah, who am I kidding, release the hounds!
The Man asks, “Can you please beat Terrell Owens over the head with one of Tony’s garden tools-of-death?“
The Man, T.O. is a TOOL-of-death, so that would be redundant. Nevertheless, I am currently in the market for an obscenely large iron rake. Maybe eBay can help me out.
Joe Cool 1013 doesn’t really ask a question, but states, “Wyatt, I want to purchase a handgun to add to my fine collection. I want to use it for personal protection and shooting northwest, tree-hugging, granola-eating, Birkenstock-wearing, owl-saving hippies!!!“
Joe, since you didn’t really ask a question – a violation which is inexcusable – my enforcers are enroute to Oregon for your “re-education.” You had better arm yourself to the teeth. As far as your choice of weapon, bigger is better, and here’s a hint: when looking to eradicate hippies, bullets covered in Ivory Soap are the most effective.
Moxargon asks, “What laws does your planet have that cover alien invasion and the enslaving of your population and the processing of some into food?“
Moxargon, I have searched the databases of my federal government, Scotland Yard, and Interpol, and I was puzzled to find that no such laws exist. This may shock you, but our planet is not really worth your trouble. I mean, you’re going to plan an invasion around seventy-five percent water and three hundred GAP stores? Mox, baby, you could do better. As far as our edibility, I should warn you that humans are mostly bones, and are not Atkins friendly.
Moxargon also asks, “By the way, is a restraining order an Earthling female’s way of playing hard to get, or is she really not interested in joining your harem?” Moxargon also notes that “That question isn’t for me, it’s for my friend Xran.”
Moxargon, they are just playing hard to get. Restraining orders are female-speak for “Conquer me, Overlord.” Or, so I’ve heard. Ignore this veiled threat, and continue your pursuit – as I have done with Yoshiko.
Xran the Fleshrender adds, “You are such a jerk, Remulak!” He then asks, “Hey Earp. Is it a crime for an idiot alien to try to pass off his own embarrassing legal troubles onto someone else? Someone who is completely innocent?“
Xran, are we talking about Moxargon or Michael Jackson? Here on Earth, it is policy to blame all of our troubles on others. Because of this, I presume your impending invasion will go smoothly, since we will spend so much time blaming Karl Rove that we will forget to mount a defense. You may start your landing.
GunnNutt asks, “Does PA consider space aliens to be ‘illegals’ or ‘undocumented workers’?“
Gunny, considering the current state administration, they would be considered registered Democrats.
D. Maria asks, “The mayor (of Philadelphia) is obviously corrupt. Why doesn’t anyone lock him up?“
D. Maria, I’m sorry, I was in my happy place dancing with glee at the prospect. Since “the brothers and sisters are running the city,” arresting the Teflon John would be more difficult than finding naked pictures of the Olsen Twins. Besides, Street’s arrest would only further his career. Look at what it did to Marion Barry.
Linda asks, “If you were caught speeding or running a red light in your car, could you talk your way out of a ticket with a male officer (without tears)?“
Linda, I would, because I have a great ass. Oh, you meant if you were pulled over? In that case, it depends upon what you were wearing at the time. I wouldn’t take any chances if I were you; every time you drive through Philly, make sure to wear stiletto heels, fishnet stockings, a leather mini-skirt, and a tank top. Oh, and don’t forget to lay on the thick Southern accent. Works every time.
Peakah asks (after the deadline), “Does the back of the paddywagon have cupholders?“
Peak, unfortunately, no, but sometimes the backs of wagons have turned into cop-holders. Lousy drunken co-workers! Philly’s wagons have ten molded seats (five on each side) and a seat belt that runs the length of the vehicle. Why am I explaining this to you? You went to college, so I’m sure you’ve seen the inside of one of these!
Tyler D. asks (after the deadline), “Why are you and “others” not putting your locations on my Frappr map?“
Ty, two reasons: First, I publish my blog from a secret location deep inside the National Security Agency headquarters. Second, I am not about to blab my actual location while Moxargon and Xran are reading the answers. Have fun being enslaved, morons!