Signs, Signs, Everywhere a Sign

I'm not even certain this is blogworthy, but I do have an amusing anecdote I want to share about something that pisses me off and what I did to stop it. I keep getting my political yard signs stolen. First of all, it should be mentioned that all the people who steal Obama signs are presumably "law and order Republicans" who want criminals arrested and prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Now, is stealing a yard sign the equivalent of serious crimes like when Cindy McCain skirted the law to get illegal prescription drugs? Of course it isn't. But I do think it's the hypocrisy of Republicans in a microcosm. They're all for law and order unless and until they decide to break the law, in which case breaking it is just fine.

Similarly, I had always thought that one of the bases of Republicanism, at least current-day Republicanism, is the right to own private property and do what you want with it without interference from the government or other individuals. Yet when I decide I want to put up a couple of yard signs in the front of my house (which is on a fairly high-traffic corner), it's more than OK for these McCain supporters to steal my private property from, well, my private property. They don't feel any cognitive dissonance in the least. Unbelievable.

I know, I know. This isn't surprising in the least. The real surprise is that I am surprised in the first place. No matter how unsurprising it is, I swear it is awfully goddamn frustrating. So, I decided to do something about it and I think it is paying off just a little bit.

As it happens, I enjoy spicy foods quite a bit. Several years ago I bought a bottle (a small vial, really) of pure capsaicin that was being sold as "hot sauce." I bought it thinking that just a couple of drops would be a great way to add quick heat to whatever I wanted. As it turned out, it was nasty. It was essentially pepper spray with an eyedropper. It added plenty of heat, but zero flavor. I used it once and hated it but, since I am a pack rat and hate to throw anything away, it sat in a cupboard for a few years.

Well, I finally found a use for it. I got some rubber gloves and a disposable paper bowl and mixed that entire vial of capsaicin with a whole tub of Vaseline. I then smeared a thick coating of the stuff around the edges of all my Obama signs as well as the signs of a congressional candidate I support.

So far the results have been pretty good. Earlier this week I went out in the morning and found both Obama signs laying flat on the yard, but they had not been stolen. Just this morning when I went out to get the paper the signs were missing and I figured "eh, at least I had them up for a week. Before the fire goo, they hadn't lasted two nights." Then I noticed that the signs had been taken down but very neatly laid in the far corner of the yard.

While I have no idea what actually happened but in my imagination a couple of mouth-breathing nose-picking Repugnants (like Chase Daniel, the fine quarterback for the University of Missouri who may or may not be a Republican but is definitely a nose-picker and booger-eater. If you don't believe me, it's not hard to find on youtube) were patrolling for Obama signs because they cannot bear the notion of a Democratic president and they saw my yard and thought "YEEE-HAWWW! Let's get us some more Obama yard signs! If I don't own a house with a yard, a bunch of stupid fuckin' (please note that the ending of the word with the "n" is my tribute to Sarah Palin) liberals don't deserve to flaunt it with yard signs for some dude who wants to raise my taxes and force me to get decent healthcare for my meth habit!"

So they sneaked up in my yard and pulled out the signs and got their hands all smeared with fire Vaseline.

I'm sure they grabbed the signs at first and felt the Vaseline, had a deep-seated sense memory and thought "why do I feel like I want to jerk off or fuck a pig right now?" immediately before realizing that the invisible goo that usually makes their nicotine-and-meth-stained hands feel good enough that they fool themselves into believing they've actually met a real woman was actually a caustic substance. Then, I imagine Jim Bob thought "my hands feel like my eyes after the cops show up at the Dew Drop Inn when I get fresh with Earlene, that slut who won't admit she wants me" and then he dropped the signs and started screaming. In my mind he also had to grab a fat, meaty booger at that exact moment and jammed one of his mashed digits, coated with capsaicin mind you, into a nostril before he realized that was probably a bad idea too. So, with eyes watering, nose running, hands burning and his throbbing (but still bobby-pin sized) erection in tow, he threw down the yard signs and got the hell away from my house.

It probably didn't go down exactly like that, but in my mind it did. Twice in one week. I may need to look for another vial of that capsaicin.