The Girl and I attended the Grand Old Day parade in St. Paul yesterday. The proverbial good time was had by all. The Girl retuned home happy, covered in a thin layer of melted chocolate ice cream.
Unfotunately, I failed to remember to bring a camera to document some of moonbattery present there; some of which bordered on unconscious self-parody.
Like the the three women who were about halfway into the procession. One wore a sash with the words "Department of Peace" scribbled on it and carried a (I am not making this up) giant fork as if it were some sort of ceremonial mace. She was followed by two younger gals carrying a plastic kiddie pool decorated (badly) to look like a bowl of spaghetti. I could be wrong though, because not only was the spectacle bizarre, but also very poorly done.
In any event, try as I may, I couldn't make the connection between the obvious anti-war statement and pasta. And while I believe that Italian food would be an integral part of any universal, lasting and just peace, I'm not sure what these moonbats were getting at.
But I sure as hell wish I had a picture of it. For photoshop purposes alone.