One less Wal-Mart or Dick's shopper

Kiss me goodbye Dick's and Wal-Mart. Never again will I buy even a piece of gum in any store that makes money off killing kids (and others) by selling military assault weaponry and ammunition. I'm boycotting you two. If Newtown CT showed anything, it is at guns are killing our young. GUNS.

I know I'm but one, but I also know there are others who will think twice. I hope so at any rate.

And given the facts--such pesky things--are that gun owners are shot by their own weapons more often, do they pay more for health insurance? If not, WHY not? Talk about more expensive healthcare risks.

Why would companies hire an assault weapon nut? Sounds like a potential problem, with the possibility that said nutcase might one day blow the office away just for the hell of it.

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  • I've been to parts of the world where guns are carried by many people, including the so-called "assault" weapons, like they are clothing accessories. There are no mass shootings in schools.

    You want to know why this is happening?

    http://www.chicagonow.com/rare-chicago/2012/12/when-the-gun-is-the-boys-best-friend/

    PS, I fail to see the outrage of the men, women and children that are killed on the south side of Chicago, especially by bloggers on this site. I live with this "outrage" every day, but maybe nobody cares, but maybe it is because this was a rich CT burb school that was hit, instead" those people down there." Hits closer to home for those who sit back and pontificate about a piece of machinery being at fault.

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    Candace Drimmer

    I was an accidental expatriate; love and marriage led me to it. One day I was a bandy-legged kid sitting atop my dogwood tree looking out of my small backyard world in 1950s New Jersey, wanting to move somewhere--anywhere, different. Next thing I knew my father had accepted a job in Houston TX. I was ecstatic, it was a foreign land in 1961 America. After high school graduation, my parents’ gave me a matched set of fawn-colored hardsided American Tourister luggage. Taking the hint, I went to college; well four colleges in five years--it was the 60s after all. Meeting a young hirsute anti-war, soon-to-be-Peace Corps volunteer, I fell in love. After finishing up college coursework for my degree, but before I even walking a graduation stage, I grabbed the paper airline ticket my boyfriend had sent me, my brand-new passport, and was off to the airport and Lima, Peru.

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