I got in a screaming match today about rights. But not about what you would think. It wasn't with my mom or dad. It was with my broken right humerus. I was enjoying myself, sitting and relaxing in my easy chair, when without warning a sharp pain shot up my upper right arm. I then yelled, "What the hell! That hurt! You're broken! You have no rights as an arm!"
My father waddled into the room asking what was wrong. I tried to explain. He walked out. Here are three reasons broken arms have no rights.
1. They cause a great deal of pain sometimes resulting in my uttering and or exclamation of foul language.
2. My life sucks because of them.
3. I now have an irrational fear of skateboards and goats because of it. (I have no idea why goats)
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