A Message from the National Knife Association

Few rights are more precious than the right to carry knives. From the beginning of the Republic until today, nothing has served to keep our defense of freedom sharp, than having a sharp blade on hand.

It has only been in the last few years that we have been able to get our message through to our leaders—that the right to be arms extends beyond guns. And that message is being heard from sea to shining sea as we march forward, blades held high.

Where would America be if Daniel Boone couldn’t skin a bear? Or there were no Bowie knife at the Alamo? After all, after you kill a deer, you still have to gut the thing. You can’t do that with a rifle or shotgun.

Knife fighting breeds character. Anyone can take a shot at a person or an animal 100 feet away with a rifle or handgun. It takes real character and courage for an up-close-and-personal fight with a jackknife or a stiletto.

How many gun carriers are as dashing as “Mack the Knife” or “Zorro, the Guy Blade”? (Knives and swords are cousins, separated largely by length.)

There’s no prouder moment than when a parent gives a child that first blade. Learning to safely handle a knife is one of those rites of passage—and it takes discipline to keep a knife sharp and to keep it in safe place in the home.

Think about how much safer the country would be if people were allowed to carry concealed knives. And there’s no danger a knife will go off by accident on a crowded subway that a stray stroke can kill or wound someone two car lengths away. Would 9/11 have happened if two or three people on one of those airplanes had been packing a shiv?

No, knives are the front line of the defense of freedom. Carrying them is part of our sacred birthright.

Remember: When knives are outlawed, only outlaws with have knives!

Toilet Humor in which the male race is defended and Mysteries Are Explained.

"Why don’t you aim better?"

This question, nay accusation, is an eternal source of conflict between the sexes. That it remains a mystery is because it has not been effectively explained, which in turn is because it’s a topic that doesn’t lend itself well to television interview.

“Well, Jay, I know I spayed the floor, but I tried to explain to my wife how this happened and she didn’t want to hear it.

Few men have sought to paint bathroom walls a faint yellow. But, alas, we are unfairly accused. Women, of course, think it’s a matter of aim, much like aiming a bullet at a target. If you point the barrel at the middle of the target—the projectile will fly true and straight. It won’t, by metaphor, drip all over target and onto the shooting bullet range.

The male anatomy is not so straightforward (most of the time), regardless of the presumptions of women. Things get twisted. What appears to be a sure aim, is perhaps ever-so slightly askew

You could say, it’s like using a garden hose if, now and then, the garden hose shrinks and gets covered with a plastic flap. And suddenly, instead of nourishing your petunias, your whole face is wet, and at the office, you see how long you can wait for the dark wet trail on your pants to dry before you walk back to your desk.

The most deadly accident is the hidden twist—the aim is careful, but, unbeknownst to the proprietor, there is just a slight deviation in the spout, leaving a stream across your wife’s bathroom slippers.

At least this is easier to deal with then the corollary:

“Why didn’t you put the seat down?”

“I don’t know. Why didn’t you put it up?”