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Eat your Okra Arla, Bubbas Sister Okra, Dinner with Rack

"Do you like the boiled okra, Okra? I made it for you."
"Why do you call me Okra?"
"Because Bubba calls you Okra."
"He is my brother, you are not my brother my name is Arla."
"Okay Arla, I will call you whatever you wish to be called. It is what decent people do."
"Thank you Baby killer."
"Gosh Arla, have you no other issue than that? It sure gets old." Rack held back making any rolly-polly jokes to the woman who was no taller than she was wide.
"So how are your kids?"
"Five of them are in exceptional classes at school."
"At that Christian school in the strip mall by McDonalds?"
"Whatever Baby Killer.
"Eat your okra Arla."
"You know I had an abortion in high school. I know what it’s like!"
"So if you had not had that safe, legal abortion, you would have been a single mother and would not have met your present husband and your seven exceptional children and two unexceptional children would not exist."
"Shut up Baby Killer!"
"And now you want to deny that same opportunity to all other women. Do you ever think these things out?"
"You do the thinking, I will do as the Lord commands us."

[write this one down, use it every time you run into one of these airheads.]

"Since meeting you [name], I have become Pro Life. You have proved that women are too stupid to make important decisions. That an intrusive BIG GOVERNMENT of middle aged white males should be making decisions for you."

"Meaning what?"
"Eat your okra Arla."